


Rejects

by realmsoffreedom



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anorexia, Bulimia, Depression, F/M, M/M, Rape, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:26:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 47
Words: 79,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2547455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realmsoffreedom/pseuds/realmsoffreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They try to save me, but I'm too far gone. And they called me crazy, so I played along. And you wanna change me, but I'm on my own...</p><p>Ashton, Michael, Calum, and Luke are the rejects of their school- outcasts, the victims of relentless torture and bullying. Damaged- unable to function normally, none of them have any hope for the future- in fact, all four of them regard their future as being six feet under, no longer living. But- relationships form, hearts break, and the mess that they're living only spirals further out of control, as everything gets significantly worse. Worse enough- that one of them could end up taking his own life. </p><p>For NaNoWriMo 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so as promised, this is my NaNo project for this year. I've already written the first chapter- but I'm going to repost the prologue first. I'm going to try and post chapters, a day after they're written. For example, the chapter I wrote today will be up tomorrow, the chapter I write tomorrow will be up Monday, something like that. Anyway- for those of you that have read this- you'll get the new stuff tomorrow, and for those of you that haven't- enjoy. It's gonna be a wild ride from here.

I never knew how cruel society could be. I had always wondered why my mother perpetually came home from work in an awful mood- screaming at everything that so much as moved- claiming that people were ridiculous and had no sense of right versus wrong. I think I understand where she was coming from- I’ve fallen victim to the same type of people. The know-it-alls who think they can push people around because their parents are wealthy as fuck, or they have the connections to get them anywhere without lifting a finger. People who bully and look down upon the rest of the world- including me- because we don’t have the resources or the will to care about anything anymore.

Society is- for lack of better words- fucking screwed up. Kids beat up other kids because of a popularity scale completely made up, seen differently in the minds of different individuals. What makes someone less popular than someone else? How does a person become popular, so to speak? Everyone starts out the same, don’t they? If we’re being completely honest here- I’m not sure what the popular kids have, that I don’t. What makes them so special? More importantly- what the hell gives them the right to hit me or kick me, and then laugh about it? What kind of sick human being gets pleasure in causing harm or pain to another human being? 

I’m not one of those kids that constantly complains about something, and then does nothing about it. Believe me- I’ve tried a multitude of options to evade the relentless bullying, but to no avail- my walls are torn down day after day, leaving me broken. I hate using the word broken to describe myself- but in this situation, I think it is accurate. I don’t have feelings- not many, at least. Happiness is shrouded in mystery- an unknown emotion. I was happy, at one point in my life, but I can’t remember that time for the life of me. I know what agony feels like- I know that emotion vividly- I feel it every time I sink a blade into the soft skin of my forearm. I know anxiety- I know nervousness- I know fear. I know the cold, hard feeling of pure fear. And trust me, that is one of the worst feelings in the world.

Fear can do things to a person. Fear can change a person completely- make them into someone entirely different- and I guess that’s what it has done to me. I never imagined that I’d be the type of person to never talk to anyone, to sit in a corner with my headphones in, trying to block out the entire world- mainly because I hate it so much. I never imagined myself listening to the bands people- wrongly- classify as “emo”. Green Day, Blink-182, All Time Low, Nirvana, The Foo Fighters, Silverchair, Bring Me the Horizon- bands that I’ve grown up with- bands that have- in the simplest terms- saved my life. 

It really does sound weird, doesn’t it? People you’ve never met, saving your life, just by bringing you eternal peace with their music? To a normal person, that is a foreign concept- but to me, it’s the story of my life. The people in these bands- a lot of them have felt the suicidal emotions I feel- they know what it’s like. Tweets of encouragement from them are what keep me going- that, and the power and honesty of their lyrics. It’s weird to say a song has saved you, but that’s what it’s done for me. 

The weirdest thing? I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

…

I fucking hate the world. Okay, maybe that was a lie- I don’t hate the world, so to speak, I hate the people on it. The fucking entitled dicks that think it’s okay to tear people down because they feel they’re better than them. Those are the kind of people that have made me who I am- that have changed me- for the worst- and made me into the person I fucking hate. I hate myself more than anything- and if we’re being completely honest here, it’s because of people who’ve teased me and beaten me up and laughed at me and made it feel like the person I used to be wasn’t good enough.

The person I used to be wasn’t good enough. I was a fat, lazy ass who dyed my hair way too much and always played video games. I still play video games- but I’ve stopped dyeing my hair- left it at black, with blue streaks on the fringe. It’s not too wild- and it’s brought the teases and jeers about my hair down. I’m sick of getting crap about my appearance, so I decided to change it. Everything I eat comes back up in the form of vomit- the only reason I eat is to ward away suspicions. I don’t want people paying me any more attention than they have to.

I kinda like to blend in- to stay in the shadows. I don’t speak unless spoken to- in hope that if people don’t see me, they won’t snatch up the chance to throw harmful jeers at me. Their words hurt- they crack my heart, making me feel empty and numb- leaving me with no place to turn. I turn to my blade- I turn to the toilet- because I have no one I feel comfortable going to about this. I’m scared to talk to the two friends I have, and talking to my parents is definitely out of the question. 

I sometimes wonder how I let myself get this bad- I don’t remember when I started cutting to feel something. I don’t remember at what point I started hating my body so much that everything I ate came back up less than an hour later. I don’t remember when I became this broken- the bullying has been a constant; from the time I entered school. I do remember crying to my mum about in when I was maybe six or seven, asking her why people are so mean. And she couldn’t give me any type of answer- except the usual ‘I don’t know, baby. I really don’t know.’ At the time, that was enough for me, but now, that’s barely an answer. There has to be a driving force. 

There’s some reason everyone I meet- with the exception of my two friends- develops hatred for me. I’m not known to provoke people. And yeah, I get angry, but that’s only when you piss me off. I don’t retaliate if you’ve done nothing to me- I’ll flip my shit if you try and hurt me, but I never end up winning. Not surprising, is it? I never end up winning- in fact, fighting back is what gets me even more hurt- whether it’s physical or mental- fighting back is something I need to stop doing. It’s an instinct- if someone does something to me- my immediate reaction is to scream at them. I’ve had my arms twisted around until they’ve broken, my eyes blackened, countless broken noses and split lips- I’ve seen more of the hospital than my own house, to be honest. 

I guess I need an escape. Maybe it’ll be a fatal one, maybe not. Who knows, at this point?

…

It’s amazing- how much of an impact people can have on a person. Conversations can make or break someone- hearing certain words can either lift their spirits or send their hopes and dreams crashing- falling fast. The people who intentionally try to hurt someone with the mainly the use of words- those people deserve to rot in hell. It’s not fair to act condescending over someone who is virtually the same as you. And honestly, what does making someone else feel like shit do for you? Besides give you a horrid, sick, twisted sense of humor, you’re really not benefitting from being an asshole.

I know that the cliché advice everyone gives is to ignore the bullies- ignore them because they’re just trying to get a reaction. If you’ve ever been the victim in that situation, you know that it’s easier said than done. When someone is calling you worthless and telling you to die- it’s hard to ignore it. Letting pain shoot through your heart is about all you can do at that point. And honestly, if you’re beaten up, the last thought in your mind is that it’ll get better- you’re too busy crying and feeling sorry for yourself. No one thinks it’ll get better when they’re at the shitty place I’m in- so I shouldn’t even bother trying.

Thinking it’ll get better is like convincing yourself you did well on a test you bullshitted. The likelihood of something like that happening is close to nothing- that’s why I gave up on hope a long time ago. Now, I just take the beatings, take the venom-filled words, and just wait until I’m alone- to slice a piece of metal into my skin- and then, only then, is it all okay again. Cutting makes me feel okay- as horridly sick and twisted as that sounds, seeing the crimson blood and the physical pain distract me from my mental pain, creating a state of pure bliss. I sound like I deserve to be locked up in some mental hospital, don’t I? I’m not crazy. Just broken.

At this point, the only things keeping me alive are my music and my best friend. He relies partly on me to be okay- and I know that if I took my life- the chances of him doing the same would skyrocket. And I’m not that selfish. There are some things in life that require sacrifice. I don’t want to break him even further. I’m not that selfish.

I don’t know how much longer I can live like this- each day brings more pain than the last, new bruises to hide, new scars that will never fade. The number of days I’ve hated myself only increases- the number reaching a new height and surpassing the number of days I was content and happy with myself. I haven’t been happy with the way I look in a really long time. 

All I know- is if there was a way to commit suicide without causing my best friend pain- I’d do it with no second thoughts.

…

I’m scared to leave my room. My safe sanctuary- where I can be myself, and no one can hurt me. It feels like pain finds me wherever I go- wrapping itself around my body and creating a cloak of agony. I’m tired of feeling it- but I don’t think my opinion matters anymore. No one ever takes it into consideration- so why should I bother telling anyone what I think? Obviously, I’m not considered important enough to have a say.

I’m never enough for anyone. Wherever I go- I disappoint the people around me. The kids at school hate me- the teachers turn away at the sight of me- hell, even my family think I’m a worthless screw-up. My brothers’ favorite pastime is making my life miserable- tearing me down with words because they hate me that much. I’ve been called a worthless screw-up so many times- I think it’s finally starting to stick. I’m worthless. I will never amount to anything. 

I don’t eat anymore- purposefully starving myself has become customary. I’ve had many people- including my older brothers, and even my parents- pinch the skin on my stomach and tease me about how pudgy I am. Because of that, I’ve stopped eating- I’ve decided to start going to the gym much more frequently- I will not be an abomination for any longer. I’m going to change- I’m going to be perfect. Maybe that’ll satisfy everyone. For once in my life, they won’t think of me as a pure disappointment. I hate being so fat- maybe that’s why everyone has taken a disliking toward me- and it’s going to change. My own brothers bully me for my weight and how quiet I am and it just all hurts and I really want it to stop. If getting thin is the only way, so be it.

The kids at school terrify me- they hurt me so badly- destroying every shard of self-confidence I once had- leaving me petrified to even open my mouth anymore. I’m too scared to get bashed for my opinion- to get teased and called more names than I already am. Talking in front of the class scares the absolute shit out of me- as does participating in conversations. I have to think about everything before I say it, and even then, waiting for people’s reactions is pure hell. I don’t speak unless spoken to- and even then, it’s with a horrendous stutter. I have anxiety- and the stutter makes me look so pathetic, but no matter what I try, I can’t get rid of it.

I guess all I’ll ever be is a disappointment- people refuse to look past that. They refuse to see my spotless school record, my numerous years of straight A’s- none of that matters to them. I spend my days playing guitar, songwriting, and listening to music- the constants in my life. The constants that have kept me grounded and are basically the only things tethering to this Earth. I’m not stranger to suicidal thoughts- and if you asked me if I’ve tried to kill myself before, saying no would mean I’d be lying.

At this rate, I’ll act upon them soon.


	2. Chapter 1

I know from the moment that I wake up- today is not going to be a good day. It’s that feeling in your gut- the feeling you get upon walking into a room the day of an exam, knowing you have not studied, and already anticipating failure. That gut-wrenching, painful feeling that just does not bode well. Waking up to the feeling can only mean one thing- today is going to be nothing short of a disaster- and I am not ready for it. 

I am not ready to face the trials and tribulations this day will bring- I would much rather lie in bed for the next few hours, left alone with nothing but my thoughts- and my blade- as company. It doesn’t seem like the ideal day off- but it is my idea of perfection. I don’t want to get up, get dressed, and face whatever is waiting for me- outside of my bedroom door. 

As much as I’d love to lie here and feel sorry for myself- I need to get my brother and sister up and ready for school. It’s not like my mum is going to do that- it’s not like she’ll actually decide to be a _mother_ for once- so it is up to me. My father walked out on us over five years ago- and we’ve been struggling ever since. The money situation is getting to be a serious problem- mum works, but not enough to put food on the table. I have a part-time job, but I’m only a senior in high school- there are not a lot of places wanting to hire me. 

I need to stop getting sidetracked by my thoughts- that really won’t get me anywhere, considering it’s almost 6:15 am, and my siblings need to be out the door between 7:15 and 7:30. 

I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, and rise to my feet. Sighing to myself, I pad into the bathroom, quickly brushing my teeth and washing my face. The actions do nothing to make me look less tired- the dark circles under my eyes almost look permanent- I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have them.

I have no time to be worried about my mediocre appearance. I turn, exiting the bathroom, and go into my sister’s room. She’s fast asleep- just as I would imagine. I force a smile to my face, seeing how peaceful and innocent she looks. Reluctantly, I shake her shoulder, kissing the top of her head.

“Hm…?” Lauren mumbles, blinking heavily. Her groggy gaze finally focuses on me, and her eyes widen in realization. “G’morning, Ash…”

I nod in reply, smiling at her, and she takes that as enough of a response to wake, getting out of bed with no protest. I have not spoken in years- I’m a mute by choice. Lauren has no problems with it- she understands why I am the way I am- Harry is still confused, but both of them have begun to accept it. 

Lauren walks around the bed, stopping in front of me. She leans down and wraps her arms around my neck affectionately. “I’ll go for a shower right now. Is Harry awake?”

I shake my head. Sliding my phone out of my pocket, I navigate to the notes app, and begin typing out what I want to say. When I finish, I hold it up so she can read it. 

_I’m going to wake him now. Mum is asleep- she was out drinking; she came home late, last night. Don’t wake her. There are bagels in the kitchen for breakfast, and strawberries, blueberries, and yogurt in the fridge. I hope that’s okay- I just got up, myself; I didn’t have time to make anything._

Lauren shakes her head vigorously, smiling at me. “That’s perfect, Ash. Go awake up Harry, I’ll handle breakfast.”

_Thank you. Love you._

“I love you too, bro,” she replies warmly. She kisses my cheek gently, before pulling back and straightening. Grabbing a towel, and her set of clothes for the day, she leaves the room. I can hear the shower turn on moments later.

I leave the room as well- walking across the hall into Harry’s room. He’s sleeping soundly as well- I really don’t like waking him up this early, but school calls. I repeat what I did for Lauren, sitting on the edge of his bed and shaking his shoulder- not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough to startle him out of sleep. 

“Ashy?” Harry mumbles sleepily, reaching up to rub his eyes. When he finally realizes the atmosphere of the room- he grins, crawling onto my lap and curling his small body into my chest. “Good morning, Ashy.”

I wrap my arms around him and hug him tighter- instead of a greeting. He is used to me not speaking, but I can tell that he would like me to start talking again.

I reach for my phone again, typing into it again.

_Hey, baby brother. Lauren’s taking a shower right now- do you wanna take one too? You can take one tonight, if you want, you’ll have more time. There’s bagels and fruit for breakfast, and told is your field trip to the science museum, remember?_

Harry grins widely, nodding. “Yes! We’re gonna go see dinosaurs! I’m so excited, Ashy! Can we cuddle now, and I take a shower tonight? I love you.”

No matter how shitty I feel, my siblings are always able to make me smile. And this time proves to be nothing short of that. I opt not to react, turning and lying down on Harry’s bed, with him still in my arms. 

“You’re the best, Ashy,” Harry murmurs against my chest. “The best big brother ever.”

…

“Bye, Ashy!”

I lean down and kiss Harry’s forehead gently, before handing him his lunchbox. I hold open the front door for him, waving and smiling, as he runs down the steps, straight for the bus. He climbs on, turning around and waving at me. I see his lips move, but the doors close in front of him, before I have the chance to decipher what he means. 

I usually drive Lauren to school- that’s why she’s still at home. She doesn’t need to rush as much, if I drive her- and our schools are within a mile from each other, so it works out. 

“Ash, I’m ready,” Lauren says, putting her plate into the sink, and grabbing her backpack. “We have to leave in the next five minutes.”

I nod, showing that I’ve understood, as I grab the coffee pot and refill my mug. I need coffee to stay awake- I don’t sleep enough in the night, if it weren’t for the caffeinated drink, I’d probably be sleeping in most of my classes. 

_Let’s go, sweetheart_. I type the message into my phone, holding it out to Lauren, while picking up my own backpack, and hefting it onto one shoulder.

I take my car keys off the hook, following Lauren out the door, and to my old Honda Civic. It’s not the best car there is- but it gets me where I need to go- and that’s enough for me. I throw my backpack into the backseat, Lauren adding hers in right after. 

After a few minutes, both of us are settled, and I turn the ignition on, before expertly backing out of the driveway, and setting off, toward the schools. Both our schools are considerably close by- it’s not that far of a drive. In a matter of less than ten minutes, I’m pulling to a halt in front of Lauren’s school building. I lean over and kiss her cheek- replacing a verbal goodbye- and she grins at me, before exiting the car, and rushing off to join her friends.

 

I back out of her school, and make the short drive to my own, parking in the student parking lot, before turning the car off and emerging from it. I grab my backpack, just as I hear someone call my name.

I lift my head knowingly, watching my best friend walk towards me. His dark hair is blowing with the wind- the blue streaks very visible. 

“Hey Ash,” Michael says softly, pulling me in for a hug. “Did your morning go okay?”

I nod in response, and he pulls back, looking me over and sighing. “You really need to get more sleep, you look exhausted.”

I smile ruefully. _That’s what coffee is for, Mikey._

“Coffee doesn’t solve all your problems,” Michael grumbles. “I don’t even understand how you like that shit, it tastes disgusting.”

_Or, you have no idea what good coffee tastes like._

“And I really don’t wanna know.” Michael wraps his arm around my shoulders, leading me toward the building. “How are you, though?”

_The same. Mum got drunk last night, nothing new._

Michael sighs heavily. “When will she learn that _she’s_ the goddamn mother, not _you_? She should be getting Harry and Lauren up and ready- not you. That isn’t your job.”

_It may not be. But I do it anyway- because they don’t deserve to be penalized for our mother’s inadequacies. It’s alright, Mikey. I’m used to it._

…

“Hey, fag. You gonna talk to us, today?”

I barely flinch at the snarled words, ignoring whoever’s said them, and continue to scribble in my notebook.

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ ignore me.”

I lift my head, looking straight into the eyes of the perpetrator. I don’t want to react- that’ll just piss him off, no matter what my reaction is. I try not to fight back, in these types of situations. I would much rather let him beat me up. It’s easier that way.

I’m prepared, when he slaps me in the face. It stings, but I have gotten used to it- the stinging pain does nothing to faze me. I just shake my head, going back to my notebook. If I don’t fight back, he’ll eventually get tired and leave me alone.

“Fag, are you gonna be difficult today?” He growls, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. He slaps me again, and this time- I do flinch. Being slapped twice in the same spot does hurt. 

But- I don’t think that is enough for him. He wants a reaction- and the punches come. He aims for my eye, and I know that by the time he’ll have finished, one of them will be blackened. I bite my lip, feeling a coppery taste fill my mouth within seconds. Tears burn in my eyes, and it just makes me hurt even more. There’s no reason for me to be crying.

I deserve this; I’ve brought this upon myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes- Ashton is mute- he's mute by choice, he could speak if he wanted to, he just chooses not to. Thoughts? Comments would be appreciated- it helps to know what you guys thought, what you liked, and what you didn't like. Thank you for reading.


	3. Chapter 2

Music is a wonderful thing.

Meaningful, a perfect ensemble of guitars and drums, and to top it all off- a good lead singer that really is able to convey the power of the lyrics. Music is always there for you- it doesn’t have the ability to break you heart, and it is always going to be a constant source of comfort. I don’t think I could’ve gotten this far without my music- it’s what keeps me alive. 

I hike up the volume on my phone, sighing happily, as the chords to Therapy invade my ears. Therapy is one of my favorite All Time Low songs- it describes the way I feel perfectly- and goddamn, those lyrics are powerful. And since I’m in study hall- I have the opportunity to sit back, relax, and enjoy the music. 

Someone taps my shoulder, and I turn to look at them- but what I see makes me freeze. Eyes widening, I stare at Ashton- he has study hall with me- but that isn’t what I’m staring at. His left eye is blackened, lip split and bleeding- there is an outline of an angry, red handprint on his left cheek- making the dark circles under his eyes much more prominent. 

“What the _fuck_ happened?!” I growl, pulling my earbuds out, and turning all the way around, so I can see him better. 

_Got beat up. It’s okay, Mikey. Can you just help me get all the blood and shit off my face? I don’t want Lauren or Harry seeing it._

“It is _not_ okay.” I regard him cautiously, lifting up a hand to brush over the handprint reddening his cheek. He winces as my hand comes into contact with his skin, shaking his head and leaning away.

 _Don’t. It’s still sore, he slapped me three times._

“You’re making me want to rip the guy apart even more, you know,” I tell him gruffly, standing and slipping my earbuds and phone into the pocket of my sweatshirt. I pull him to his feet, and lead him out of the classroom, not bothering to tell the study hall advisor where we’re going. 

I push him into the bathroom, closing the door behind us, and watch as he walks up to the mirrors. Ashton’s face changes at the sight of his reflection- his gaze becoming horrified. He stares blankly at how awful his face looks, reaching up to touch his eye- wincing when the pain hits. 

_Fucking hell. Didn’t know I looked this bad. Looks a lot worse than it feels._

I push his phone back to him, opting to grab a few paper towels, and run them under the cold water. “Let’s clean your lip up, and then we can do something about that eye. Not sure how we’re gonna get rid of the handprint, though…luckily, it’s almost time to go…your mum won’t freak, will she?”

Ashton’s smile fades. _She’s not sober enough to care, Michael._

I exhale a heavy sigh, shaking my head. “You know, you _can_ call CPS on that bitch, right?”

Ashton’s eyes turn dark, and he grabs my wrist in his, forcing me to look at him. _And then Harry and Lauren will be put in foster care. Over my fucking dead body, Michael. I can handle this. It’s only for this year, and then I can get them out of there._

I pull away from him, hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’m sorry. Don’t murder me. Let’s just clean you up- the period is almost over, and you still have to go get Lauren.”

I don’t bother waiting for a response- deciding to press the paper towel to his lip, my face falling as he winces. I make sure to get all the blood off- then grabbing a dry paper towel, and wiping his face. When I’m through, Ashton glances in the mirror, nodding thoughtfully. 

_The blood’s gone. That’s good. I can just tell them that I accidentally ran into something- Harry will buy it immediately, and I can convince Lauren._

“Ash-”

The last bell rings, effectively cutting me off. Ashton pulls away from me, hefting his backpack over his shoulders. He types one more message into his phone, holding it out to me. 

_I have to go. Lauren will be wondering where I am, if I’m any later. I’ll text you tonight._

…

“Mikey!”

I lift my head, glancing at the boy in front of me. “Hey, Cal. You coming home with me today?”

Calum smiles ruefully, shaking his head. “Nah, sorry. I’ve got footie practice, I just wanted to come and see you for a second- I didn’t get the chance, today.”

“C’mere, give your Mikey a hug.” I grin at him, holding open my arms, and he rushes into them gratefully, hugging me as tightly as possible- considering the bags balanced on his shoulders. One is his school bag, and the other has his footie gear and shit. 

“Can you come over, after I get done with practice?” Calum asks. “There’s something I wanna talk to you about.”

Mentally flipping through my schedule, I think for a second- my father won’t be home until late tonight, and my mother is on a business trip, anyway. “Yeah, of course. What time?”

“’Round 6,” he replies. “Practice is done at 5:30, but I’m gonna need time to shower and shit.”

“Please do,” I mutter. “You fucking _stink_ , after practice.” I cringe at the thought, grinning as a hurt expression crosses his face.

“You asshole,” Calum replies. “Shit, I gotta go. See you in a couple hours, yeah?”

“Bye, Cal.”

…

I turn my key into the lock, opening the door to my house and stepping inside. My father is at work- and my mother is not going to be home for another two days, so I have the house to myself.

Throwing my schoolbag on the ground, I make a beeline for the kitchen- in search of something to eat. I don’t eat at school- I skip lunch, to avoid the comments about my weight, and how much I’ve “let myself go”. To make up for that, I eat at home, and usually end up purging everything up- just so that I won’t gain any weight. My biggest fear is stepping on that scale, and seeing the number elevate. 

I pull a can of Coke from the fridge, and grab the crisp packet from the pantry. Not the healthiest snack in the world, but it’ll come up anyway, there’s no point in carefully selecting healthy shit that I won’t even enjoy. I make my way upstairs, forgetting about the pile of homework I have due tomorrow- that’s what homeroom is for.

I glance at the clock on my bedside table. 3:04. A little over two hours, until I have to leave for Calum’s house. I also wanna check on Ashton- but I doubt he’d take kindly to the idea of me barging into his house, uninvited. He has enough on his plate- his afternoons are overtaken by trying to help Harry and Lauren with their homework, making dinner, and getting the kids ready for bed.

It’s almost like he’s a father to those kids- and it isn’t that he’s not doing a good job- that kid is one of the calmest, most patient people I know- especially when it comes to his brother and sister- but he’s only seventeen. He shouldn’t be responsible for a thirteen year old and a ten-year old- that’s his mother’s job. 

Lost in thought- I realize that the bag of crisps is almost empty, and I’ve finished the Coke a long while ago. A feeling of disgust washes over me, as I look down at my fat stomach- how in the hell did I eat so much, so quickly? I didn’t even realize I’d eaten that much- I’m fucking disgusting. Those kids are right. I need to stop eating, before I end up an obese asshole.

Sighing heavily, I get up again, this time to go to the bathroom. My customary routine, after I eat too much. It may seem disgusting for someone to shove their fingers down their throat and vomit everything they’ve eaten- but to me, this is normal. This is my reality. 

…

When I get to Calum’s house, I don’t bother knocking on the door- Joy treats me like her own son, I’m welcome in his house. Just as I thought- she’s standing in the kitchen, parallel to the front door, and when I enter, she looks at me fondly.

“Michael,” she says warmly, walking over to me. She regards me thoughtfully, looking me up and down. “Have you been eating well? You look too thin, dear.”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Hood,” I reply softly. “Where’s Cal?”

“Michael,” she chides. “I’ve told you many times- call me Joy. Mrs. Hood is much too formal; especially considering the years I’ve known your family. And Calum is upstairs, in his room- you’re fee to go on up, he’s been expecting you.”

I nod, smiling at her, as I make my way up the stairs. I know this house like the back of my hand- I’d like to think I’m here more often than I am at my own house. Calum’s mum doesn’t work- so someone is always home- a contrast to my own house.

“Mikey!”

I reach the doorway of Calum’s room- but when I do- I find that he isn’t alone. There’s another boy sitting next to him, dressed in our school’s footie uniform. He’s quite thin, with long and lanky limbs- and blonde hair arranged in a quiff, on the top of his head. He glances up at me, and I see his baby blue eyes widen, looking me up and down.

“Cal…who’s he?” I ask, lowering my head to the ground. “I didn’t know you were inviting someone else.”

“That’s why I asked you to come, silly,” Calum chuckles. “I wanted to introduce you two. Luke, this is Michael, he’s my best friend. And Mikey, this is Luke. He’s one of my good friends on the footie team.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? I'd love opinions on whether Ashton is correct not to want to call CPS on his mother- that's a controversial topic. Next chapter...there's a lot of Malum, and let's just say...I'm not too nice to Cal...


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Malum shippers, you're gonna love this chapter. As always, your thoughts on it would be appreciated. Enjoy.

Michael freezes when he hears that, staring at Luke blankly. His face pales about two shades- making him look even whiter than normal, as he glances Luke up and down. The silence in the room is deafening; I can feel Luke tensing up against me. He doesn’t know why Michael is scrutinizing him- and neither do I, to be honest. Michael’s looking at him like he’s a piece of meat- I don’t blame Luke for being hesitant.

“Uh…” Luke breaks the silence awkwardly, staring at the black-haired boy. He looks quite skeptical of Michael- especially considering his reaction- or lack thereof. 

His voice seems to break Michael out of his trance- enough for him to come over to us, looking quite sheepish, but guarded at the same time. I regard him suspiciously, as he directs his next words to Luke. “I’m sorry, I tend to shy away from new people- I’m not used to meeting someone spontaneously like this. Cal usually gives me some sort of warning.” He glances at me when he says that, and his voice is teasing, but I can see the darkness in his eyes. 

He’s definitely not happy with me- I can see how pissed he is, just by the one glance he’s given me- something tells me a fight is brewing after Luke leaves.

…

I’m right. 

Michael rounds on me the moment Luke walks out the front door, glaring at me with dark eyes and red cheeks. “What the hell, Calum?! You barely _looked_ at me while he was here! When the hell did you get a new best friend, and why wasn’t your _current_ best friend informed?!”

“He is not my best friend, Mikey,” I say calmly. “He’s a friend from the football team, and I enjoy his company- he isn’t my best friend, and he’ll never be. You’re my best friend- I’ve known you since we were seven, and Luke is not gonna change that.”

“How do you know?!” Michael cries. He tugs at strands of his black hair, ignoring my flinch at how hard he’s pulling on it. “You wanna replace me, don’t you?” His voice grows smaller and smaller, until it’s barely audible- and he refuses to look at me. He suddenly becomes very interested in the carpeting, staring at it, unable to pick his head up. 

“Michael!” I shake my head vigorously, pulling him toward me, and forcing him to look me in the eye. “How could you even _think_ I’d try and replace you? We’ve been friends for years, Mikey, and I will _never_ replace you with _anyone_.”

“Luke is probably better than me,” Michael mutters. “He’s not an anxiety-ridden asshole, and he probably doesn’t have all sorts of baggage to drag with him.”

I snort. “You act like these don’t exist.” I pull away from him and yank up my shirt, exposing the numerous cuts on my stomach- some fresh, some whitening and scarring. “I have baggage too. I’m fucked up too. I would never replace you- and even if I _did_ , not for something like that.”

“Cal,” Michael whispers, his eyes softening. “These are fresh…”

He drops to his knees, running his fingers over the cuts, wincing at the same time I do. 

“I know they’re fresh. My father hasn’t let up on the comments, Mikey. I’ll never be good enough for him- all I am to him is a worthless failure. All I’ll ever be is a worthless piece of shit. I’m trying my best, but it’s so fucking hard, and he doesn’t understand anything. I wanna die and he doesn’t care. He won’t shut up about how much of a goddamn disappointment I am. And it fucking hurts.”

“Cal…” Michael repeats, pushing me down to my knees as well. “Come here.” He grabs me and pulls me into his arms, and I just go limp, wrapping around him like a limpet. He rubs my back in small circles, kissing my hair gently. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, I love you,” Michael murmurs. “I’m just…it’s my separation anxiety, Cal…I don’t wanna lose you, I don’t want you to leave me. You’ll eventually get tired of me, and I’m not ready for that yet…”

“I will never get tired of you, Mikey.” I wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him back. “You’re the only reason I haven’t killed myself yet. I’m staying for you.”

Michael chuckles humorlessly. “Ditto. And Cal, I don’t know how much longer I can take this. This is fucking hell. I’m in so much pain. I want to end it.”

…

Michael cards a hand through my messy hair, pulling me closer to him. “Any better now, bro?”

“Still feel fucking shitty,” I mutter. “I just…hate all of this so much. And I’m scared that I’ll fuck up this friendship with Luke. He doesn’t know how goddamn screwed up I am, and it seems like, with every person I befriend, they somehow find out how broken I am, and then it turns into me getting attached, and them picking up and leaving…”

Michael sighs heavily. “I know how it feels, Cal…and it’s fucking shitty, but sometimes, you gotta take a risk and trust someone. After all, you trust me, right?”

I roll my eyes. “I’ve known you for almost ten years, of course I trust you. You’ve always been there for me, especially in times like this…”

“Because you’re my brother and I love you, and I’d die to keep you safe,” Michael says firmly. “And I gotta say this now, don’t expect me to talk to Luke…I’m not good with new people. He’s your friend, and that’s all fine and good, but my anxiety makes it so fucking difficult to make friends…I don’t even wanna try anymore.”

“You don’t have to, I know how hard it is for you…” I tilt my head upward, resting it in the junction between his neck and shoulder. “Can we stay like this forever? And never talk to any outsider, ever again?”

“I wish. This is our kind of heaven.”

Michael’s phone vibrates, and he grumbles to himself, sliding it out of his pocket and glancing at the screen. “Shit. My father wants me home. He’s pissed. I gotta go, Cal, I’m sorry. I don’t want to leave you like this…”

“It’s okay, Mikey…” I whisper, trying to keep the tears out of my voice, but not succeeding. “I’ll be okay.”

“Just relax, alright?” Michael says gently, slipping out from underneath me, and kneeling down beside the couch. He grabs my hand, squeezing tightly, before pressing his lips to my knuckles. “Don’t try and do any work. Our teachers can suck it, your mental health matters so much more. I don’t want you stressing yourself out. I’m checking your stomach tomorrow morning- and I better not find any new cuts.”

“I can’t promise anything.” I exhale, shaking my head. “I can’t promise I’ll be strong enough.”

“You’re stronger than you think, Calum.” Michael’s voice is firm, as he looks me straight in the eye. “You are so much fucking stronger than you think you are.”

…

“Calum Thomas Hood!”

Hearing my full name turns me to ice. I freeze, staring blankly at the ceiling, and trying to remember what the hell I did this time, to piss off my father. I can hear him thundering up the steps, and my stomach starts to flip over, making a nauseous feeling whirr up in my throat. I’m already shaking, and he hasn’t even come in here yet. God fucking dammit, I’m so fucked up. 

“What the _hell_ is this, young man?!”

My father storms toward me, clutching my recent report card in his fist. The fear overwhelms me, and I can feel my eyes start to water- the shaking only getting worse. My breathing is all over the place- I’m about to have a panic attack.

“Three B’s, two C’s, and one D!” He growls. “These grades are _not_ going to get you into college, do you realize that?! At most, all you’ll be doing is mopping floors and waiting tables, barely having enough money to put food on the table. You need to stop being such a lazy asshole- whatever you’re doing now is pathetic and useless. You want to make us proud, don’t you? Well, all these grades do is make you look like the worthless failure you are!”

He only yelled for five minutes- but his words will stay with me for years. I’m shaking and trying not to cry, as I hear him turn around and stomp downstairs. I can barely breathe- I feel like the walls are closing in around me. I’m suffocating.

My immediate thought is to go for the blade- but then I remember what Michael told me. He’ll be so fucking upset and disappointed, if I cut again. He’ll yell at me and hate me and I can’t lose him. I need Michael. He makes me feel safe and holds me when I’m upset- he keeps me sane and grounded. I need him to be okay, I can’t lose him. I’ll die without him. 

The blade is so fucking tempting, and I know it’ll help. Michael can’t be too mad at me- he cuts himself too, and his reliance on the blade is just as bad as mine. He can’t be too angry at me- he’ll be a hypocrite, if he is. I need to do this- it’s either to this, or end up killing myself, and I really think Michael would prefer the former. I don’t know whether I’m ready to die yet- I want to kill myself, but not right now, not this second. 

I stand quickly, stumbling into the bathroom, and rummaging in the cabinet for my blade. Finally finding it, I grab it desperately, hastily remembering to lock the door, before sliding down onto the floor with it in my hand. I lift my shirt up, and press the sharp piece of metal to a bare patch of skin on my stomach, wasting no time, as I slide it across.


	5. Chapter 4

Getting into my house is easy. 

Getting upstairs before my parents or brothers see me- now _that_ is the hard part. It’s not that they’re horrible people or anything, but the emotional abuse has got to stop. They say they’re joking, but to be honest, the jokes hurt so much. I don’t see what’s funny in telling your son how much weight he’s gained, nor do I understand why it’s necessary for them to point out my awkwardness, how quiet and shy I am, things like that.

It’s anxiety. I’m almost one hundred percent sure I have anxiety disorder and social anxiety- but my parents don’t believe me. They think it’s just a stupid act I’m putting on to try and get out of going to family events, or an excuse to get out of presentations. I’ve tried my best to do oral presentations, and they all end in dizziness, nausea, and for me- suicidal thoughts. 

It’s miserable, and being teased about it doesn’t help at all. 

“Aw, Lukey’s home!”

Shit. I try and dash for the stairs, but a hand grabs my upper arm, and I whirl around to face my mum. 

“Hi baby,” she coos, leaning in to kiss my cheek. I groan, wiping it off as soon as she pulls back. “How was practice? I bet you’re tired, I’ve made dinner already. Your father and brothers are eating- come join us.”

“I’m kinda tired, mum,” I admit softly, half lying. I’m really not in the mood to eat- the though of food makes me nauseous, and it isn’t because I just played football for almost two hours. “I just wanna go upstairs and lie down.”

“Of course you’re tired! You’re in no shape to play football, you’re fatass Hemmings! You look like a fucking pig!”

I wince when I hear Jack shouting from the kitchen, shifting from one foot to the other, trying not to show that I’ve let his words affect me. I’m always looked at as “too sensitive”, and apparently, I overreact too much. If my mum sees me cry, she’ll shout at Jack, and that’ll just worsen the teasing. I’ve been through this enough times to know that. I just wanna be alone. 

“That’s enough, Jack,” Mum mutters. “Alright, Luke. Go ahead up and rest. I’ll bring you some Tylenol in a couple hours, if you still feel crummy, alright? I love you.”

I can’t even bring myself to return the phrase, so I just mumble something under my breath, not waiting for her reaction. I race up the stairs, almost taking them two at a time, running into my room. Once the door is safely locked, I collapse onto my bed, burying my face into the blanket.

I bite my lip until I can taste blood, trying my best not to cry. I’m so fucking weak- they’re just teasing me, why am I getting so butthurt over it? I should be used to it by now- they’ve been doing it since I was little. It’s like when you break a bone really badly, it’ll heal eventually, but the ache never goes away. My emotional wounds have healed, but the ache still comes back from time to time. 

I’ll never be free from it. 

I can feel my stomach twisting and rumbling loudly, causing a nauseous feeling to bubble up inside my throat. _Hunger_. Hunger pains hurt so fucking much- when you’re starving yourself, they seem to be much worse. It’s like your body _knows_ what you’re doing, and it’s purposefully trying to tempt you back into eating. Luckily, I’m able to resist the urge, and I never give in to my stomach’s commands. It doesn’t control me. 

Starving is the only thing I’m strong enough to do. I eat enough- enough to keep me from passing out. That’s maybe a small snack per day, and a shitload of water. Some days I’ll reward myself, and eat two snacks again, but that’s only when I’ve been good and stuck to my schedule. If I accidentally eat more than I’m supposed to, I skip the one snack in its entirety the next day. A punishment fit for overeating. 

I rub a face over my face, shaking my head. I need to stop thinking about this- all I’m going to do is trigger myself. My stomach is already protesting, I don’t want to make anything worse. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I let my thoughts wander again, until I come to the one subject that’s been bothering me all afternoon. 

Michael.

When Calum introduced me to him, I had a vague sense of who he was. I remember him as the kid who used to dye his hair all sorts of colors- I remember walking into school one day, and seeing him talking to Calum- his hair candy floss pink. It’s been pink, blue, bleached white, green, and now it’s black. I don’t know why he made it black- but that was months ago, and he hasn’t changed it since.

It seems like he’s gotten quieter since then- more reserved. He used to be brighter, I remember hearing him talk excitedly to Calum, watching them discuss the new FIFA game. It was honestly adorable- how passionate he used to be about video games. He seemed to have this adoring note in his voice, whenever he talked about things he loved. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it- he’s changed so fucking much.

I guess high school has changed all of us. Everyone seems to have gotten quieter and more subdued- maybe it’s the pressure and stress, the bullying. Everything is just too much for all of us right now, and I don’t know what I’m going to do anymore. It’s only sophomore year, and I want to kill myself. I shouldn’t be so suicidal, because of school. I shouldn’t want to slice my wrist open or swallow a bottle of painkillers, sure to kill me…but I guess it’s just life throwing another curveball at me.

I don’t know if I’m ready for it.

…

“Luke! Over here!”

I lift my head slightly, plastering a smile on my face when I see Calum waving to me. Michael is standing beside him- but he seems to be very interested in his phone. He hasn’t looked up yet, and it results in a ball of nervous energy beginning to grow in my stomach. Does he not like me? Have I done something for him to not like me? 

As I walk over to them, I think back to what I’ve done since I met him. We haven’t talked yet- the most we’ve even _looked_ at each other, is when Calum introduced us. I’m really not sure what he has to hate me for- but it must be something. Maybe he thinks I look like shit? Or maybe he agrees with my brothers- I’m fucking fatass Hemmings, aren’t I? I’ll _always_ be fatass Hemmings, that’s the nickname my brothers have decided on for me.

“Hey Luke!” Calum seems almost _too_ excited, and that sparks suspicion in me. I look him up and down, noticing immediately how tense he is. A quick glance into his eyes tells me he’s obviously in the middle of a not so good conversation with Michael, and my presence has deterred it. 

“One of my friends wants to meet up with me, m’gonna go. This is not over, Cal,” Michael warns, his voice soft. However, he leans in and wraps his arms around Calum’s neck, briefly pressing his lips to the Kiwi boy’s hair. I can hear muffled words, assuming Michael is whispering something into Calum’s ear. Calum stiffens slightly, nodding. I can see how much it pains him to do so, and that just makes me even more concerned. 

Minutes later, he’s gone, and I’m left staring at Calum awkwardly. He scratches the back of his neck, sighing. “Don’t worry about that. It’s just…I’m going through some…things…right now, and Michael’s worried.”

“You okay?” I look him over once again- there’s nothing wrong with his physical appearance, he looks the same as he did yesterday. It must be something wrong inside- and that’s where I become useless. I’m not good at helping people- the most I can do is let them vent to me, and listen to them talk about their problems. Other than that, I can barely think of what to say to comfort them- and if you want advice, I’m the worst person in the world to come to. 

“He’s overreacting, it’s nothing, forget about it. I’m fine,” Calum says, forcing a smile. He steps away from his locker, slamming the door shut, and turns to me. “Let’s get to homeroom, yeah?”

…

“Fucking hell.”

I grumble to myself, throwing my backpack on the ground, and storming up the stairs. I don’t bother to greet my mother, not in the mood at all. Today started off mildly okay, and then it just turned into absolute shit. My game was terrible- coach almost had me sit out, because I was fucking up so much. On top of that, I failed my math test, and my teacher asked me to get my parents to sign it.

Fuck that. I’m not risking another opportunity to get ridiculed. I’m the dumbass in the family- my mother is a math teacher, and my brothers are fucking amazing at school. My father’s pretty smart too- it’s just me who’s the dumb one. I can’t do anything right- I’m the fucking black sheep of the family, and it hurts a lot. 

I hate being the one everyone looks at, because I’m different. I’m trying my best to blend in with my brothers, but it’s hard when both of them have accomplished so much, and I’ve done practically nothing. It’s hard when I’m trying to battle depression and anxiety- two things they’ve _never_ had to endure. Trust me, if they did know what depression and anxiety were like, they’d think twice before teasing me. 

I want to fucking _scream_. I want everyone to know what they’ve put me through- I want them to know how broken I am. I’ve already thought it through- I’ll kill myself eventually, and then everyone will know what they’ve done to me. And by the time they realize how cruel they’ve been, it’ll be too late. 

I’ll already be dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? I know that Luke has been mentioned to be quite smart- I said he gets straight A's in the prologue- so he shouldn't be failing tests, but you'll find out the reason in upcoming chapters. Comments would be lovely- next chapter, Ashton isn't in for an easy time when it comes to telling Lauren about his bruises, and you guys find out exactly how hard it is for a seventeen year old to raise a thirteen and ten year old on his own.


	6. Chapter 5

As I predicted, convincing Harry that my bruises were just from running into a door- that was nothing short of easy. He believed it immediately, opting to hug me tightly. He pressed his lips to my bruised eye and cheek- his reasoning- ‘kisses make everything better, Ashy’. It was fucking adorable, and to be honest, the action did make me feel somewhat better. My face still hurts, but it’s not as bad- and I do need to get used to being hurt like that. It’s been happening for years now, it’s time I suck it up and deal with it.

It’s all a matter of convincing Lauren now. I told her I’d talk to her privately, while Harry goes for his shower, so that I can sit down with him and help him with his homework. He’s very smart- intelligence is not the issue. Harry is just reliant on presence- he doesn’t like being in a room by himself. It took me a while to convince him to sleep by himself- I don’t really mind sitting with him, it gives me a chance to spend time with him, and he needs an adult figure in his life to do that. 

I push open Lauren’s bedroom door, stepping inside silently. She glances up as soon as she hears the door creak open, pushing herself to her feet. “Harry’s showering- tell me what happened to your face.” She wastes no time in any kind of pleasantry, instead surveying my bruises with sad eyes.

 _It’s nothing, love. I just accidentally received the brunt of some kid’s punch- he wasn’t aiming for me, but I was in the way._ It’s not an entire lie- I did get punched, but the punch was aimed toward me. I’d rather not lie to Lauren, but she doesn’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.

Lauren sighs and shakes her head. “That’s a lie, Ashton. I’ve seen the bruises- there’s a fucking _handprint_ on your cheek. Someone _slapped_ you. Stop lying, there’s nothing you have to protect me from. I want the truth, and I want it _now_.”

_First off, watch your language. And secondly- baby, it’s nothing you need to concern yourself over. I may’ve pissed someone off- but it was a one-time thing. I’m okay, I promise. Please don’t worry about me- there’s nothing wrong._

“I don’t know, Ash…just because I’m four years younger than you, doesn’t mean I’m an imbecile. I can tell that you aren’t okay.”

Her words should alarm me- but they don’t. I’ve taken utmost care to make sure that my cuts are safely hidden. I only cut my wrists enough that I can cover them- once it goes past that point, I move onto my thighs. There is no way Lauren will be able to see my thighs, so I’m good. I’ve put a lot of thought into this- my siblings finding out about my self-harm and depression is my worst nightmare.

_I’m fine, baby sister. Just kinda stressed because mum’s been getting drunk more often, lately. I’ll adjust. I want you to forget about this, alright? Finish your homework, and then change into some comfortable clothes. After Harry finishes his, the three of us will can cuddle and watch a movie, sound good?_

Lauren nods mutely, stepping forward to wrap her arms around my neck. I hug her back just as tightly, rubbing her back gently. I rest my chin on top of her head, leaning down and kissing her brown locks. She sighs against me. “I love you, Ashton.”

I just tighten my arms in place of replying. She knows that speaking is not something I’m going to do in the future- actions speak louder than words.

…

“And we say the Tyrannosaurus Rex, and Triceratops, and everything, Ashy! It was so cool, can we go back there sometime? Me, you, and Lauren?”

Harry grins at me, looking up hopefully with puppy dog eyes. I shake my head and grin at him- inwardly panicking. I never want to dissatisfy them, but I don’t think we have nearly enough money to go to that museum. We barely have enough to put food on the table- the money our mum makes combined with the money I make at work is just enough.

I don’t work every day- I have really kind bosses, both very understanding of my situations. I work mainly on weekends, because I can trust Lauren to take care of Harry, and if not, I can send them over to Mikey’s house. They love to play with him- and he loves them, so it works out. 

Ignoring his first question, I answer the second. _What about mum, Haz?_

Harry’s smile fades, as he stares at the paper in front of him. “Mummy never has time for us anymore! She’s always sleeping or working, and she comes home really late. I don’t like her anymore, Ashy, I don’t!”

I sigh. _Baby, that’s not fair. Mum’s really trying. It’s hard for us, ever since dad left, but we’re making it, aren’t we? Mum only wants the best for you._

“If she wanted the best for me, she’d tell me she loves me once in a while,” Harry mutters darkly. “And she’d help you with breakfast, making our lunches and dinner. She wouldn’t make you do everything.”

Tears come to my eyes. I’m absolutely touched by that- as young as he is, Harry understands the hell I’m going through, and he knows that it isn’t right. He’s worried about me- just as Lauren is. I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve such sweet siblings- Harry and Lauren are the fucking best. 

_Come here._ I reach over and pull Harry onto my lap, hugging him tightly into my chest, burying my face in his soft, messy curls. I wish I could speak- I wish I could tell him exactly how much I love him, but I’m too scared to talk again. It’s not fucking fair- I wish I wasn’t such a baby. I wish I could make Harry and Lauren realize how much I love them- and how much they’ve done for me, without even knowing it. 

…

I slash the blade against my wrist harshly, barely flinching when I see the tide of blood start to well up in the cut. That marks the fifth cut on my arm- as close to my upper arm as I can get. It’s November- there won’t be any question if I wear jumpers all the time. And cutting closer to my upper arm helps to avoid the risk of my sleeve rolling up, and cuts being seen. 

I tilt my head back, staring at the ceiling blankly. I’m so fucked up, it’s scary. But I’m also a damn good actor- it’s so easy to act normal around my siblings and pretend everything is okay. It’s so goddamn easy to pretend I’m not dying inside, not victim to crippling depression and anxiety. I’m such a mess, and no one knows. Michael has no idea I cut myself- I know _he_ cuts _himself_ , but he doesn’t know I do the same. He thinks it’s just stress that has me depressed.

Snorting inwardly at the thought, I clench my fingers around the piece of metal in my arm and make another slash- a sense of relief flooding through me, as blood starts to gush from the cut. Physical pain soothes my mental pain- that is how it always has been, and that is how it always will be. 

I didn’t stop talking just because I wanted to. Something happened- an incident that has been locked away for months. There is only one person who knows of the horror it put me through. That is why I stopped talking- that’s why I started hurting myself. I’m not trying to ask for sympathy- this was years ago. It’s over, done with, and I’d love to forget it. There is no way for me to forget it happened- but I can try and move on. 

People have twisted the story into multiple things- the only person who does know the truth has swore on his life not to tell. That’s why I’m bullied and called a fag- yes, I’m gay, but no, I didn’t sleep with every single guy at the school. That’s crazy, ridiculous, and fucking stupid- how that rumor even started, is mind-boggling to me. 

There are days when I just want to be done with all of this. I want my past to stop wrecking my future- but I know that no matter how far I run from my past, I will never be able to escape it. I will never be able to escape what he did to me. 

…

“Ash, hey, what the fuck happened to your face?!”

I slip behind the counter of the coffee shop I work at, nodding to Louis as I take off my bag and hang it up in the back room.

Louis is waiting for me when I emerge, pulling me into a tight hug, pressing his lips to my hair. “The shop doesn’t open for another ten minutes- talk to me.”

I roll my eyes at him, and he sighs. “You know what I meant. Z’s inside, do you want me to get him as well? This is important.”

He doesn’t bother waiting for my reply, and I shake my head as he slips into the back room, wondering why he asked for my opinion to begin with. I don’t have too much time to think, because Louis reenters seconds later, Zayn following close behind.

Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik own the coffee shop I work at- neither of them wanted to go to college- they’re both passionate about singing, and something tells me the shop is a one-time thing, but they’ve been my bosses ever since I’ve started. They’re amazing, very lenient about my hours, and understanding of my home situation. I love them so much- they’re like older brothers to me.

“Ash- holy shit, who did that to you?!” Zayn’s reaction is similar to Louis’, and I sigh heavily, shaking my head. 

_It’s not important- everyone seems to be asking that. I just wanna get this shift over with, I promised Harry and Lauren a movie and cuddles tonight, but then I realized I needed to come today, otherwise we won’t have enough to pay for groceries when I go shopping this weekend._

“Ashton…you know we don’t mind paying you a bit extra…we know how hard everything is for you, it’s okay…” Zayn says gently. “You need to sleep, mate, you look dead on your feet.”

_I’m fine._

“Bull.” Louis’ voice is firm. “We own this place, Ash. We get to decide how much we pay, how many hours you work, that sort of thing. And you look exhausted, babe.”

_I’m tired, but it doesn’t matter. Harry and Lauren can’t starve. I’ll sleep after I’ve made sure I can feed them._

Zayn snorts. “Tired is an understatement. You shouldn’t have to do this, Ashton. You don’t need to be this grown-up at seventeen. Hell, Lou’s almost 23, and he’s not even as mature as you are.”

Louis growls and punches him in the arm. “But- jokes aside- Zayn is right. You’re too stressed, babe. It’s gonna kill you one day.”

_Good._

“Ashton, don’t say that. You’re not going to get better if you keep begging to die, trust me,” Zayn mutters. He reaches over and pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest. I can feel his lips on my forehead, before he pulls away and rests his chin on top of my head. “Take it from me, you don’t wanna go any deeper into that hole. Suicidal thoughts are agonizing- I’ve had too many for one lifetime- and it fucking _kills_ me to know that you’re having them. I want you to be okay, Ash. You’re like a little brother to us. We’re not your bosses, we’re your brothers- and we want you to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? The rest of 1D will be introduced soon, I promise. And what do you guys think about Harry's attitude toward their mum? Is he right, or should he not hate her as much as he does? I'd love opinions- comments are greatly appreciate. Thanks for reading.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next are Malum heavy- and don't worry, the whole thing about forming a band, and introducing Ashton to Luke and Calum is coming. I've already started writing that part.

Calum is clever.

He knew that I wouldn’t want to be around when he was talking to Luke, so he made sure to call the blonde over. As they talked in eager voices, I slipped away, instead going to talk to Ashton and make sure he was okay. His face looks a lot better than it did yesterday- that’s a good thing.

“Ash, did you manage to convince Lauren?”

Ashton stops putting books into his locker, to look pull out his phone and start typing again. _Yeah. And then I went to work and told Louis and Zayn the truth._

“You did what?” I ask in disbelief, grabbing his wrist and forcing him to look at me. “You didn’t have to work yesterday- your shift is tonight.”

_I know. But mum hasn’t gone to work in three days- nursing a hangover and then getting drunk again, it’s a vicious goddamn cycle. I need to work if we want to eat, Mikey. If I hadn’t gone last night, we wouldn’t have been able to afford groceries. It’s not up to what I want right now. I need to do what’s best for Harry and Lauren._

I snort. “Is it best for Harry and Lauren, to watch you pass out from exhaustion and malnutrition?”

Ashton glares at me. _Michael._ If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under right now- and to be honest, I wouldn’t be too pissed about it. 

“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “But it’s true- have you been eating? You’re looking thinner and thinner every day…”

_I eat when I know Harry and Lauren will be able to. If there’s not enough food, I don’t bother. It doesn’t matter, Mikey. They’re more important- just one more year, and then we can move._

“And in that one year, you’re planning to starve yourself and deprive your body of things it _desperately_ needs? Great plan.”

…

Calum doesn’t have footie practice today, and both our mums have given the school permission for us to ride each other’s buses home whenever we want. I guess that comes with knowing a family for almost a decade- Calum isn’t my best friend, he’s my brother. Smiling to myself, I climb onto my bus with him following close behind. 

We slump into the first empty seat we see, before I turn to him, staring at him in concern. He seems to have gotten quieter throughout the day- like something happened and he can’t take it. It’s worrying- I planned on yelling at him- I _know_ he cut last night, but I can’t do that in good conscience. I don’t want to break him even more- he already looks fragile as fuck.

“Cal, what happened?” I ask gently, propping his body up, and slipping my arm behind him, around his shoulders. “What’s bothering you?”

“It’s nothing,” Calum mutters, and I can hear his tears in his voice- he’s struggling to keep the tears at bay, but obviously failing at it. It makes his voice sound more choked up and agonized- raising my worry level even more. 

“I’ve known you long enough to know that’s not true,” I chide gently, thumbing away a stray tear that’s started to roll down his cheek. “C’mon, talk to me.”

“I failed my Chem test,” Calum whispers. “My dad’s gonna kill me…”

I understand immediately- his actions make so much more sense now. He’s so scared of his dad, so terrified of being yelled at and called a worthless disappointment again. It breaks my heart- he doesn’t deserve this in the fucking slightest. Calum is beautiful- smart, talented, creative- he deserves to be loved.

“Hey, shh, don’t stress,” I murmur, kissing his cheek. “We’ll call your mum and ask if you can stay at my house tonight, yeah? Everything is going to be okay.” Calum has a bunch of clothes at my house, and brushing his teeth isn’t an issue- there’s no reason he can’t stay. 

“Thanks, Mikey.” His voice sounds so heart-breaking right now, laced with tears and cracking so much, I can barely understand him.

“Baby…” I sigh heavily, pulling him closer. “Go ahead and cry. You need to- it’s alright. No one can hurt you anymore, I’m here.”

…

Calum’s mum was okay with it- she loves me, I can tell she’s seen the change in Calum. He’s like a terrified kitten, refusing to talk to anyone, trying to hide himself, all because of his goddamned father. I want to _slap_ that dickhead- he deserves it, he broke his own son and he doesn’t even know it. 

“Just go lay down, alright? I’m gonna go get some crisps and soda and shit, you can turn on the Playstation if you want to.” I take Calum’s backpack off his shoulders, adding it to mine in the corner of the room, and leave him to lie down, while I run downstairs. 

It’s so easy to hide everything from him- he hasn’t suspected that I cut last night too, and while I feel shitty for lying to him, I don’t want my issues to get in the way of his. He’s more important now- and I want him to be completely blind to my problems, because if he knows I’m struggling with food and cutting, he’ll be worrying about me and not about himself.

I grab the crisps packet and two bottles of Coke, before making my way back upstairs. I can’t throw up when Calum is in the house- he’ll worry for sure- so I know that I’m not going to be the one eating all of this. I can’t gain anymore weight- I’m a fucking disgusting pig. 

“Cal, I’ve got the- holy shit, what did you _do_?” My voice drops to a whisper- Calum has his shirt up, and he’s staring at the cuts on his stomach, tracing them over- almost in some kind of trance. He doesn’t acknowledge my presence, tracing his finger over a particularly fresh and deep cut, before pressing into it.

He barely flinches at the pain, and I drop the food to the side, kneeling in front of him. I grab his hands in mine, looking into his cocoa eyes- noticing exactly how much agony resides in them. “What are you doing, Cal?”

“I wanna hurt, Mikey. I deserve to hurt.”

…

“Michael!”

The call of name results in fear exploding in my stomach. Calum is asleep against me, his head resting on my stomach, my fingers tangled in his hair. My father is home- he wasn’t expected until later tonight, after my mum gets back. He’s early. Fuck.

As carefully as I can, I slip out from behind Calum. He mumbles in his sleep, as I replace my body with a pillow. Smacking his lips sleepily, he settles back into the pillow, soft snores emitting from his form within minutes.

I make my way downstairs cautiously- I hope that today won’t be one of the bad days. Usually, the abuse isn’t that bad, but sometimes, it can get to be too much. That’s especially when my father is angry, and trust me, he gets angry a lot. He’s not a fan of Calum- but as long as I don’t let him know Cal is here, I should be alright.

“There you are, kid,” my father grumbles. “Go get me a beer. What have you made for dinner?”

“I thought we could have the frozen pizza in the freezer, dad,” I say nervously, walking over to the fridge quietly. If I anger him, I’m fucked. I grab the bottle of beer from the fridge and hand it to him, waiting for his reaction.

“We had that yesterday,” he mutters. “Too lazy to make something new, are you now?” His hand is raised, and I don’t even flinch as it connects with my cheek. I feel the pain- but I’m used to pretending it doesn’t hurt. Crying in pain will only make him call me a pussy and beat me even more. 

“No, dad, it’s just that I have a lot of homework tonight, and I don’t want to fall behind in school.”

“Bullshit.” A punch is aimed for my mouth, and I wince as I taste copper on my lips. “You’re just lazy as fuck. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have such a disappointment as a son- but I doubt I’ll get what I wish for. Your mum isn’t here to save you now, you fucking mistake. I can have all the fun I want with you.”

“Dad, please…I’m sorry, I’ll go make something right now,” I whisper.

“Too late, you’ve already ruined my appetite,” he growls. Another slap, and a punch to the stomach, leaving me on the floor, gasping as I clutch my stomach.

“You’re such a baby, take it like a goddamn man,” he sneers. “I’ve taught you better than this.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologize again, getting to my feet. I’m gasping for breath- the punch to my stomach having knocked the wind out of me. “I’m a mistake, I know.”

“Say it,” he orders. “You are a mistake and a worthless piece of trash that neither your mother nor I wanted. You are an accident, and you will always be.”

“I am a mistake, and a worthless piece of trash and neither you nor mom wanted. I’m an accident, and I will always be.”

I repeat his words numbly- used to this. I’ve been told to repeat this more times than I can count, and it’s become customary. It’s almost like the words hold no meaning- the amount of times I’ve said them, but every time, they chip off a piece of my heart, until there will eventually be nothing left. 

…

“What the _hell_ happened to you?!”

Calum’s words are full of shock, as I limp back into my bedroom, clutching my stomach with my eyes on the ground. 

“Nothing,” I grunt. “M’okay.”

“No, you are _not_ okay, Michael. You weren’t limping before I fell asleep, and you didn’t have a bruised cheek, a bleeding lip, and a black eye, two hours ago. Who the _fuck_ did this to you?”


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me for this- that's all I have to say.

Michael shakes his head, obviously not wanting to continue the conversation. He tightens his arms around his stomach, wincing painfully while he limps toward the bed. I slide off the mattress and go over to him, slipping an arm around his shoulders. “Lean on me, Mike.” He does as he’s told, and my eyes widen- he’s so light. He’s so much fucking lighter than I last remember.

“There you go- I’ll go downstairs and get you some ice or something.”

Michael looks at me fearfully, shaking his head vigorously. “Don’t go down there…m’okay. Want you to cuddle.”

“But your stomach…and your face…”

“It’s nothing, Cal,” Michael sighs. “Please don’t worry about it. I want you to cuddle with me, that’ll make me feel better.” He opens his arms, and I sigh, making my way over to him. I curl around his body- his back flush against my chest. Leaning down, I kiss the top of his head softly. 

“Go to sleep, Mikey,” I murmur. “It’s only eight, but you look exhausted, and I’m tired too. Tomorrow is Saturday, we don’t need to worry about homework and shit.”

“I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up,” Michael admits, chuckling humorlessly. I pull away from him slightly, looking at him in shock.

“Michael…what?”

“I’m really suicidal, didn’t you know?” Michael’s reply is so nonchalant- he says it like he’d say any every day thing. It’s almost like he doesn’t care that he’s suicidal- he wants to die, and it’s been established- he doesn’t have the will to care anymore. I sigh heavily, holding him significantly tighter, pressing my nose into his neck.

“I can’t lose you, Mikey…”

“I know,” Michael whispers. “And that’s the only reason I have to stay.”

…

“You gonna be okay?” Michael asks, as we walk up the steps of my house.

I nod. “Luke’s coming over in a couple minutes- he said he wanted to get away from his family for a minute, they were pissing him off.”

Michael’s smile fades at the mention of Luke- I know he said he doesn’t want to try and make friends with the blonde because of his social anxiety- but why does he clam up whenever I talk about Luke? It makes no sense to me- maybe there’s something Michael isn’t telling me about how he feels toward Luke. I just hope he doesn’t make it obvious when Luke is around- something tells me that the blonde has been through more than he lets on- and Michael blatantly hating him for no reason will only make it worse.

“Alright, I gotta get back. One of my friends asked me to come over, so I’ll see you Monday?”

“Of course, Mikey. I’ll text you, yeah?” I lean forward to hug him tightly, feeling him return the gesture affectionately. 

“Have fun, Cal,” Michael says gently. He presses his lips to my messy hair. “Text me if you want to cut. Don’t do it without texting me first.”

I sigh. “I…I’ll try.”

The corners of Michael’s lips turn up in a smile. “That’s all I’m asking for.” He squeezes me once more, before pulling away, waving as he sets off down the sidewalk. 

Turning around, I slip into the house, toeing off my shoes silently. I make it up the stairs unnoticed, racing into my room and locking the door- before my father realizes that I’m home. Once Luke gets here, I’m safe. He won’t yell at me if Luke is here. 

…

“Calum! Luke is here!”

Smiling to myself, I descend down the steps and into the main hall, where Luke is talking to my mum. He’s smiling, respectfully listening as she rambles on about how we don’t see him enough, and asks if his family would like to come to dinner sometime.

“I’ll ask my mum,” Luke says politely, before turning to me. “Hey, Cal.”

“Hi Lukey,” I reply. “Follow me, let’s go upstairs.” I lead him into my bedroom, and he sits down on the floor in front of my bed, folding his legs into a position that almost looks painful- but doesn’t seem to faze him.

“Thank you for letting me come,” Luke mutters. “I couldn’t take any more of being at home. My brothers are dicks, and my mum can definitely get irritating after a while.”

“No problem, bro. So…what do you wanna do?”

Luke shrugs. “What type of music do you like to listen to?”

“Green Day, Blink-182, All Time Low, bands like that…” I say softly, regarding him cautiously. My music taste is one of the things I’m very sensitive about- I get upset if someone disses the bands I love, or shits on songs that are meaningful to me.

“Same!” Luke’s eyes light up, a sense of happiness and passion starting to surround him. It’s fucking adorable- seeing him this happy makes warmth explode in my stomach as well. I don’t love him- not the way you think I do- but he is a brother to me, and I love seeing him happy.

“I sing a bit, too…” Luke says shyly, suddenly becoming very interested in the carpeting. He refuses to look at me, picking at loose strings of carpet.

“That’s awesome!” I say, forcing enthusiasm into my voice. “I don’t suppose you’d wanna sing for me, do you?”

“When I have my guitar, maybe I will,” Luke replies. “But not now, no. I just…my dream is to become a musician. A famous one, like Alex Gaskarth and All Time Low, I want to be a lead singer of a band.”

“That’s a really great dream, Lukey.” I force him to look at me, looking into his eyes. “Chase it.”

Luke scoffs. “Why bother chasing something I’ll never catch?”

“You never know when dreams can come true, Luke. It can happen in a split second.”

…

The weekend passes quickly- bringing daunting thoughts about the upcoming week. I don’t want to go to school- but at the same time, I don’t want to stay at home, when my dad is sometimes around. If he sees me doing nothing, I get yelled at. If I’m not studying hard and “looking ahead”, I get yelled at. Hell, I’d get yelled at for fucking _breathing_. 

It’s so hard to please him- and I’m done trying. He’s fucking ripping me to shreds- and at this point, I’m counting down the days until I can get out of this fucking hellhole I call a house. It’ll be sad to leave my mum, but to my father, all I have to say is- good fucking riddance. I want to leave. I hate my father so fucking much. He says he does everything with my best interests in mind. 

If he was really considering my best interests, his words wouldn’t make me tear into my skin.

“Cal? You’re getting distracted!”

I shake my head, snapping back to reality. Michael whines in front of me, pouting. “Pay attention to me!” He continues his story about the dumbass kid in his math class, something I’m really not interested in anyway.

“I’m sorry, Mikey. I’m just really distracted…” I sigh, confessing to the truth. “I’m tired because I didn’t sleep much last night.”

Michael’s face softens. “Aw, Cal…you should’ve texted or called me, I would’ve helped you out.”

“I didn’t want to bother you- it’s alright.” 

“You wouldn’t be bothering me, Calum,” Michael says seriously. “You could never bother me.”

“I know, it’s just…m’sorry…” I mumble. I’m really not in the mood for him to keep pestering me- I mean, I know that what he’s saying is probably funny, and that I should be interested, but I just don’t care. He’s been talking a lot these past few days, and there are times when I just wanna slap a hand over his mouth and tell him to shut his trap. I know I can’t do that- but sometimes I wish I could.

Michael reaches for me, but I scoot away, shaking my head. “No, I’m okay. Don’t touch me.”

“Cal? What’s wrong? You always let me hug you and cuddle with you…I thought you liked it…” Michael whispers. Tears are starting to build in his eyes, and I hate myself for making him cry.

Somehow, my mind and my mouth are not getting along at the moment. “I just pretend to like it, you’re way too goddamn clingy, like honestly, why are you always touching me and trying to attach yourself to me, do you not know the meaning of personal space? And I hate feeling your fat against me, it’s fucking disgusting, have you every considered going to a gym? Or not eating as much fucking pizza as you do? Goddammit Michael, you fucking disgust me.”

Michael’s lower lip wobbles, tears slipping down his cheeks. I can see him shaking, trembling profusely, and that’s when I realize I’ve fucked up. I reach for him, but he pulls away as if I’ve burned him.

Shakily, he gets to his feet, running out of the cafeteria, leaving me to watch him go- bathed in every form of regret. 

I’ve really fucked up this time.


	9. Chapter 8

I don’t expect to see Calum at my door.

Not at nine in the night, at least. But there he is, rain-soaked and shivering, trying to hold himself together with his arms wrapped around his abdomen. He looks pitiful- tiny and small from how cold and wet he is. I have no idea what happened, but he looks awful, and there’s no way I’m leaving him out there to freeze.

“Shit Cal, you’re freezing,” I mutter, opening the door wider and pulling him into the house. He whimpers, profuse shivers cutting through his body. 

“C-Can I talk to y-you…?” He asks, looking at me helplessly. I can’t do anything but nod, grabbing his arm and leading him upstairs, into my bedroom. My parents and brothers are both out for the night- which is lucky for me, I don’t think my mum would let Calum come up without looking him over ten times for injuries of some sort. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand to silence him, going over to my dresser. I grab a pair of sweat pants and a black shirt, before turning back to him and giving him the clothes. “Go to the bathroom and strip those wet clothes. You are not getting sick.”

Calum nods. “T-Thank you, Luke…”

“Don’t thank me,” I reply. “I’m gonna get answers out of you in a couple minutes- I just don’t want you to freeze to death in those wet clothes.”

…

“What happened, Cal?” I ask softly, as he sits back down on the bed, putting his head in his hands. I can hear his heavy sigh- this is definitely something big. I don’t want to force it out of him, but I’m really worried.

Calum exhales. “I fucked up, Luke. I really fucked up.”

“What did you do?”

“I…I snapped. I snapped at Mikey…I said some things to him that I don’t even wanna repeat. They wouldn’t sound so horrible to a normal person, but I called him out on both his deepest insecurities, and shamed him for them. And he didn’t even do anything wrong- he was just telling me this funny story about something that happened in his math class. He tried to hug me, and that’s not out of the normal- he does that a lot, and I usually let him. I was just in a pissy mood, and I snapped at him…”

“Calum,” I say, voice steely calm. “What did you say to him?”

“It’s awful, Luke, I don’t want you to hate me,” Calum mutters. “I don’t know what to do…Michael is everything to me. He’s my best friend, and…fuck! Fucking hell, fuck, I’m such a fucking idiot!”

“What?! What’s wrong?!” I ask frantically. Calum’s eyes are wide and he’s muttering curses to himself. Something is wrong. 

Calum’s head snaps up, eyes wild. “Michael is suicidal. He said that I’m the only reason he hasn’t tried to end it…and I just…fucking hell he could be dead right now, Luke, I fucked up so bad!”

“Oh my fucking god, no…” I whisper, realization hitting me. I had a feeling there was something wrong with Michael, but I never thought it’d be his contemplation about ending his life. 

“I’m a fucking idiot!” Calum moans. “What the hell do I do now?!”

“Stop whining, for one,” I reply. “Call him. And if he doesn’t answer, leave a voicemail telling him how sorry you are. Tell him that he doesn’t have to forgive you, and beg him not to end his life. Fucking grovel, Calum. You fucked up, and you need to fix this.”

…

Calum stayed home today- he didn’t want to face Michael, and quite frankly, I don’t blame him. But I do want to see if Michael is okay- if he has someone to talk to. In school, I don’t see him with anyone other than Calum, so I’m not sure. 

I catch a glimpse of a blue streak in darker coloured hair, and my eyes widen. Michael is the only guy at school- to my knowledge- who has blue streaks on his fringe. I can just barely see him weaving through the crowds of people- we still have ten minutes, before we’re supposed to be in homeroom, and we’re free to roam the halls until then.

Michael turns into _senior_ hallway, and that shocks me to the bone. Since when does he associate with seniors? He barely talks to people in _our_ grade, forget about people of the senior class, two years older than he is. 

Nervously, I follow him into senior hallway, immediately overwhelmed by the upperclassmen. They’re all much taller than me, and their appearances signify that they’re older. Some guys have beards, and _damn_. This is awkward and uncomfortable and I have no fucking clue how Michael feels any type of sane in this mess of people. 

Michael heads for a kid’s locker, and I stare at the owner of it. He’s as tall as Michael, with messy curls and honey-colored eyes. There are dark circles underneath his eyes, and a healing bruise on one cheek. He shoves books into his locker, exchanging them for others, as Michael stops next to him. 

The kid ceases all action, turning his full attention to Michael, and grabbing the boy in a tight embrace. He kisses the top of Michael’s head, rubbing his back gently, and I just stare. I can faintly hear Michael choking something out between dry sobs, being shushed as the senior presses his head to his chest, hugging him tightly. Who the _hell_ is this? I don’t even think _Calum_ knows that Michael has a friend who’s a senior.

I see the senior type something onto his phone, before holding it out to Michael. Michael nods, his head flopping back onto the other boy’s chest. What, does that other boy have a speaking issue? He has a voice, why doesn’t he bother using it? This is all so fucking confusing to me. 

I watch the senior close his locker, and then he wraps a strong arm around Michael’s shoulders, leading him down the hall, out of sight. I don’t want to follow them, because Michael will know I’ve been watching, and that’ll just escalate his anger toward me. 

One thing’s for sure, Calum definitely hurt him.

…

I have lunch with Michael, so maybe I can try and see if he’ll talk to me. I don’t have any intention of trying to justify Calum’s actions- he told me what he said, and quite damn honestly, it’s fucking disgusting. I don’t want Michael to forgive him any earlier than he feels he has to. He’ll forgive him when he’s ready, and no earlier. That’s how Calum will know that he’s really forgiven- if someone pushes Michael into forgiving him any earlier, the sincerity of it is lost. 

I walk into the lunchroom- no intention of eating, either. I usually tell my mum I buy lunch at school, but we all know that never happens. I usually use lunchtime to try and calm myself down from the first half of the day, and prepare for the rest. But today- that’s all out the window. I can see Michael sitting by himself in the corner of the room, and I know exactly what I’m going to do. 

I go over to Michael’s table, sitting down in the seat across from him. He looks up at me, eyes widening almost comically, and immediately moves to get up.

I shake my head. “Please Michael, sit down. I just want to talk to you- it’s nothing you need to be scared of.”

“You’ve probably talked to Calum, haven’t you?” He says emotionlessly. “And you’re here to try and get me to make up with him. Good luck.”

“No, Michael, I’m not. I _have_ talked to Calum, but what he said to you was fucking disgusting. I don’t want you to forgive him just yet. I just wanted to ask you if you’re okay. Do you have someone to talk to, besides him? Because if you don’t, I can be that person for you.”

Michael opens his mouth to answer, but I shake my head, holding up a hand. “I’m not done. I know how you feel about me. And you don’t have to like me- after all, I’m Calum’s friend, not yours. But I want you to know something. I know how it feels to be alone, and trust me, that emotion is one of the most painful ones there is. It’d kill me to know you were feeling that way. And second- Calum regrets this. He’s worried that you’re going to try and kill yourself, he was terrified about that. I’m not trying to justify his actions- there is no justification for them. But know that he _is_ remorseful, and he didn’t mean any of what he said. I don’t know why he said it, but he didn’t mean it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late- I've been distracted all day. But question- do you agree with Luke, or do you think Michael should forgive Calum? Your thoughts would be appreciated, thanks for reading.


	10. Chapter 9

“He fucking knows I have separation anxiety, and I’ve gone to him numerous times about how much I fucking hate my body…yet he still decided to call me out on those two things. Like, I don’t think I’m too clingy- I’m just scared people are going to leave me, because I’m nothing special, I’m not worth staying for. And Cal obviously thinks the same thing- I’ve lost him, Ash, I’ve fucking lost him!”

I sigh, running a hand through Michael’s messy hair. He’s been a mess ever since he showed up at my door- right after Calum decided to tear him down completely. He’s still crying, and goddamn, he’s so upset about it. I’ve been comforting him as best I can- but sometimes, I don’t know what to tell him. I can’t tell him anything, if you want to be technical, and that’s making it even more difficult. I wish I could just hold him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, while he cries into my chest. 

“A-Ash…why does he hate me? I thought he was my best friend, I didn’t think I was annoying him…and isn’t he supposed to love me unconditionally?”

 _He’s being a dick, Mikey. Do you want me to confront him?_ I type that with shaking fingers- not really loving the idea of confrontation. I don’t even know why I offered- but if Michael really wants me to try and “talk” to Calum, I guess I can try. It’d just be nerve-wracking, and I’d probably have a bad panic attack before or after- but Michael is worth it. I’d really prefer not to have to do it, but I will, if he really wants me to.

“N-No…I don’t want you to have to suffer because of me. I’ll be okay,” Michael mutters. “I just…I hate him, but I love him at the same time, and it’s so fucked up, Ash…”

_Just let it all out, babe. Tell me everything. I’m gonna let you ramble on until you get tired of hearing your own voice._

Michael nods weakly, exhaling deeply against me. “Calum is just…fragile sometimes, because his father emotionally abuses him, and he’s never really felt safe. He’s told me before- that I make him feel safe, and that I’m his go-to person when he feels like shit, and when he’s ready to break. But I just…I want to hate him, because he called me fat and clingy and I hate my body so much…it’s like he was confirming everything I think about myself. But I don’t want him to hurt and I just…I’m so fucking confused, Ash…”

_I think that you and Calum need some time apart, anyway. You’re always together- and that might be having a negative impact on your friendship. Maybe, if you both stop talking for maybe a couple days, everything will be okay again._

“Who am I supposed to vent to, then?” Michael mumbles.

His words stab me- it’s like he can’t vent to me, yet he’s crying to me right now. Am I not good enough for him to consider me a friend? It’s my insecurities flaring up again, and I grumble to myself, as self-depreciation and hatred start to overwhelm me. As best I can, I push the thoughts away- saving them for when I’m alone. Michael doesn’t need to deal with my insecurities. 

_Me?_

Michael forces a smile. “I always vent to you, Ash- you don’t need that. You’re stressed out enough, as it is. I can’t keep doing this to you.”

_Don’t worry about me- I’ll be fine. I’m used to this._

“It’s not fair, Ash. You have to worry about Harry and Lauren, and you work a lot- I can’t do that to you. I’ll be okay.”

_I’ve known you for years, Mike. And I know you better than that. So I want you to relax, and tell me everything you don’t like about Calum, and we’ll diss him together, until you feel better. Alright?_

…

Michael finally went home- after another couple hours of ranting and venting. I think he felt a lot better, which is good. Thing is- Harry and Lauren still need to be fed, and I’m late for work. 

Sighing to myself, I text Zayn, telling him that I can’t come. I hate to have to do this- but the kids need to be fed, and I’m not about to let them starve, just so I can go work. _Hey man, sorry, I can’t come today. Something came up with a friend, didn’t have time to make dinner, so I have to make it now. I’m sorry, I’ll make up the hours some other time._

Zayn’s reply comes a minute later. _Don’t worry about it, mate. I was actually gonna close the shop today- Louis and I both are tired, there’s no point. We’ll grab some takeout and come over, yeah? Don’t worry about making anything._

_I can’t ask you guys to do that…_

I can almost imagine Zayn’s glare. _You didn’t ask, I offered. Lou said he’s ordering Chinese right now. We’ll be over to help you take care of the kids in a few. Don’t stress, Ash._

I sigh. _Fine. But you better let me pay you back for the food._

_In your dreams, moron. We’re doing this because we want to- Lou and I have money, don’t worry about it. And don’t tell Haz and Lauren we’re coming, we wanna surprise them._

…

The front door bangs open- a shout immediately ringing out from the doorway. It’s Louis’ voice- loud and excited, enough to get my siblings running. Harry dashes into Louis’ open arms, hugging him tightly. Lauren goes straight to Zayn, burying her face in his neck, as he sets the bag of food down and lifts her off her feet. 

“How are my favorite guys today?” Louis says brightly, kissing Harry’s head. “How was the museum, Harry?”

“It was so much fun, Uncle Lou! Ashy said that he’ll take me and Lauren again sometime!”

Louis’ face falls. “What about me? Don’t you want me to come? I’m so offended, Harry, I thought you loved me!” He begins to fake-cry, and I grin- Harry looks flabbergasted by this. He rushes to kiss Louis’ cheek, attempting comfort.

“You can come too, Uncle Lou!”

“I can? That’s much better, your uncle Lou loves you!” Louis lifts him into his arms, helping Harry get onto his shoulders. “You’re as high as a T-Rex now!”

Watching the sight is bittersweet. Lauren is clinging onto Zayn, whispering something in his ear, to which he nods and hugs her. Louis and Zayn are so good with them- and I can’t help but think I’d be able to join in on the fun, if I was talking. I can just lift Harry and Lauren in the air- but I can’t do the funny voices or make them laugh, like Louis can. And I can’t comfort Lauren with sweet words, like Zayn can.

“Ash, you look awful,” Louis says bluntly, shifting Harry on his hip, and walking over to me. 

“You’re wrong, Ashy always looks good!” Harry is quick to defend, and I grin, ruffling his Harry. I press my lips to the top of his head, just as I hear Zayn calling me from the kitchen.

Somehow I know that Zayn and Louis will always be better than me- they’ll always elicit a light in my siblings’ eyes that I can’t bring out. I should be happy that my friends make them so happy, but I can’t help but wish it was me. I can’t help but wish I didn’t get so bad over that goddamn incident- it’s because of that, that I’ve stopped talking, and because of that, I’ve lost the person who I used to be. I’m a broken shell of my old self, and guess what?

I fucking _hate_ being like this. 

…

“So how are you, Ash? And don’t give me some bull about how you’re doing better, and that you’ll be okay. I want something real.”

Louis runs a hand through my messy curls, letting me lay my head on his lap. Zayn has my feet on his thighs, and he’s got one of my hands in his, squeezing it tightly every once in a while. I love the gestures- they’re comforting, and make me feel safe. Zayn and Louis are the only two people I feel safe around- I can tell them anything, and they won’t judge me.

I grab my phone, typing quickly. _M’okay. I just don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. I’m exhausted and my chest is tight, I feel like I’m holding back tears all the goddamn time. So I don’t think I’m okay, that contradicts what I said first but I don’t give a damn, I’m really not okay, and I have no one because my best friend is fragile right now too, and it’s all just one big mess, and I wanna die so bad I’m just done._

I don’t pay attention to grammar, just wanting to get the point across as quickly as possible. I’m sick of feeling so lonely- abandonment is painful and heartbreaking- I wouldn’t wish the pain on my worst enemy. 

“Ash, babe…how come you didn’t tell us…?” Zayn whispers. “That’s just…I’m so sorry…”

Louis eases me up gently, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me tightly. Zayn joins the hug moments later, and I just bury my face into his chest, letting my tears soak into his shirt. 

“Never hide something like this from us again, babe. It’s so hard, and you must’ve been in so much pain- I hate the thought of that. We love you, and we want you to be okay. Don’t hide yourself from us- we’ve been here through it all, and we will always be here for you, whenever you need us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Next chapter is a mix of both angst and fluff- I don't think yo'll be too disappointed. Comments would be lovely, thank you for reading.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy trigger warning for suicide at the beginning of this chapter- please be careful. I almost triggered myself, writing it, so please, if it'll trigger you, skip that entire scene. The next scene starts with the words 'Calum is limping', if you'd like to skip to it.

I hate being angry at Calum.

I mean, I know he fucked up, and I’m still hurting from what he said- but he’s my best friend, and I hate having to ignore him. Days have passed, he’s back at school- he can’t avoid me forever. He looks absolutely awful- pale, exhausted…every time I see him, my heart breaks a little bit more. I know that he’s not in a good place either- and that just escalates my worry. 

I know that he fucked up- but we all do that at some point in our lives. Calum didn’t mean it- it’s obvious by how heartbroken he looks now. If he meant it, he wouldn’t look like a kicked puppy whenever I see him. He keeps his head down around me- almost like he doesn’t think he deserves my attention.

I’m not in love with him, per say, he’s my brother and I just want him to be okay. It’s almost been a week since the incident, and I don’t think we’ve ever gone this long without speaking. It’s new- and it’s fucking hell- for both of us. I know that Calum isn’t holding up well, and to be honest, I’m not either. The sweatshirts are back, scars quickly starting to cover the length of my arms. At this point- there are more scars than bare skin. 

I’m just so fucking confused about my feelings and emotions right now. I don’t know what I even feel anymore- it’s a jumbled mess of thoughts, some more terrifying than others. There are times when I have thought about suicide- I’ve laid in bed and contemplated how I would kill myself- and trust me, that is fucking scary. It’s haunting to know that you have a distinct, clear-cut plan for how to end your life- not many people can say that they’ve ever fathomed thinking about something like that.

In my opinion- shooting myself in the head is the best way to go. The entire point of committing suicide is to die, and here are a multitude of ways to go about making that happen- but some are more effective than others. Cutting too deep is an option- but the probability of someone finding me and getting me to a hospital is high. The same risk goes for swallowing a bottle of painkillers- it’s effective, but not nearly as effective as a shot in the head.

Shooting myself in the head will kill me instantly- death will be quick and painless, unlike slitting my wrists. And moreover- it could be played off as an accident- people accidentally shoot themselves all the time. If I were to overdose, people would _know_ I had the intent of killing myself. Shooting myself is probably the most effective way- getting hit by a car or truck being the second most effective.

See what I mean about my thoughts being terrifying? A normal person shouldn’t be thinking this in-depth about these things. I know I’m crazy- I probably should be locked up in some goddamn mental institution- but I’m not sick. I’m just tired of being broken- I want to be done forever- I don’t want to live like this anymore. It’s painful, it’s agonizing, and I’m _finished_.

…

Calum is limping when I see him.

It’s not a slight limp either- it’s pronounced, and his face is twisted in pain. Schoolbag slung over once shoulder, he’s attempting to keep up with the crowd, as he follows them to his next class- but he isn’t succeeding. I don’t know what happened to his foot- but it looks fucking painful. 

Accidentally, he puts more weight on it- and I watch his face contort in obvious pain. He clenches his eyes shut- but I know if he hadn’t, he’d be crying. It looks like he wants to stop in the middle of the hallway and break down in tears, but he obviously can’t. He continues limping- and I just feel the ache in my chest, I feel my heart breaking. 

No matter how angry I am at him- I can’t watch this for any longer. “Cal!” 

Calm stops, turning around wearily. His eyes seem to light up when he sees me. “M-Mikey?”

“Oh my god, Cal,” I mutter, rushing over to him. I grab his shoulders, looking him in the eye. “What the hell happened?!”

“Fell. I went outside during lunch to practice penalty kicks, and I rolled it.”

“And you didn’t go to the nurse? Fuck, Cal…” I lower him to his bum, helping him to lean against the wall. Just as I do, the bell rings, signaling that the five-minute period to switch classes is over.

“Mikey, you’re late, go to class,” Calum whispers. “I’m fine.” His voice cracks painfully, and when I glance up at him again, I can see tears starting to fall down his cheeks. 

“You are _not_ fine,” I tell him firmly, taking off both our backpacks, and settling them off to the side. “You can barely walk on this foot…”

“Why do you care? I was so mean to you…I deserve this.” Calum isn’t even looking at me anymore, eyes downcast. “I don’t deserve your help, you don’t need to do this.”

I exhale a sigh. “Calum, no matter what you said to me, you’re still my best friend- that hasn’t changed. I’m not about to start an entire gushy conversation now- we can do that after we get your shoe off and take a look at this foot.”

Calum winces. “It hurts…”

“I know it does, but we need to get your shoe off, otherwise it’ll swell up really badly. But I think we should wait until we’re home…we still have two periods left, but there’s no way you can get through them like this. I’ll call your mum, okay?”

Calum nods mutely, as I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial. As I’m speaking to his mum, he reaches for my hand, looking up at me pleadingly. I intertwine my fingers with his, shooting him a reassuring smile, as Joy tells me she’ll call the school and come for both of us immediately.

I hang up quickly, slipping my phone back into my pocket, and turning to Calum. “Your mum is on her way. Do you need anything from your locker, before we go?”

Calum shakes his head. “Thank you, Mikey…”

…

I help Calum limp over to the couch, his mum following behind worriedly. When I finally get him onto the cushions, he breathes a heavy sigh of relief, closing his eyes in exhaustion. His mum grabs two couch cushions, putting them on top of each other and patting them gently.

“Let’s get his leg up. We need to elevate it,” she tells me. I nod, lifting Calum’s leg up, cringing and muttering an apology when he groans loudly in pain. I rest his ankle on the pillows- his shoe is still on, we haven’t bothered taking it off yet. It’ll hurt him- and we want to delay that as much as possible. 

“Cal, baby, I’m gonna get you some ice and aspirin, okay?” Joy says softly, kissing his cheek. He glances at her, nodding tiredly, before turning his gaze to me.

“S’gonna hurt, isn’t it?” 

“I’m sorry.” I give a soft affirmative. “We need to take your shoe and sock off, wrap it, and get some ice on it, before it swells even more.” I untie the laces of his shoe, and pull it off in one motion.

“Fuck!” Calum curses, glaring at me. “A warning would’ve been great!”

“You would’ve tensed up,” I say matter-of-factly. “But I’m taking your sock off now, and if you tense up, all you’re gonna do is make it hurt worse.” I grip the edges of his sock, and slide it off as quickly as I can. Calum grabs the arm of the couch, groaning loudly in pain. 

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “But it’s off now, and holy shit, your foot is swelling up like a football…”

Just as I say that, Calum’s mum returns with an armload of supplies. She sets down everything, before grabbing the aspirin and shaking two pills out of the container. Handing them and a bottle of water to her son, she watches as Calum swallows down the pills, smiling at her gratefully. 

…

About twenty minutes later, Calum’s ankle is wrapped tightly, resting on the pillow. His cheeks are tearstained, eyes red-rimmed from crying. “Done hurting me?” His voice is hoarse, and I hate how much pain he’s in.

“Just ice,” I tell him gently, draping the icepack over his foot. “There you go. You’re not moving from this spot for a while, so get comfortable.”

Calum nods drowsily. “Mikey…m’so sorry…”

“Don’t even worry about it.” I kneel down in front of him, taking his hand in mine. “I know you didn’t mean it. It’s okay.”

“You’re not fat, Mikey,” Calum murmurs. “And I love how clingy you are. Makes me feel okay.”

“Cal…”

“Shhh,” Calum mumbles. “Come here, cuddle with me.”

I don’t bother responding- opting to slip beside him instead. He rests his head on my shoulder, immediately cuddling into my side. He’s warm and really cuddly- this is the Calum I know and love. I kiss the top of his head, holding him closer, and rest my head on top of his.

“I love you, Mikey…” Calum slurs sleepily.

“Love you too, Cal. Go to sleep, you’re exhausted, you need it.”


	12. Chapter 11

The good thing about all of this is that Mikey forgave me.

However, I still don’t know- nor do I understand why he did it. He saw me limping to class- in obvious pain- and I guess that sparked something in him. I kinda wish he didn’t forgive me- that’s not fair. I call him clingy and fat, and he forgives me, just like that? How is that fair? I hurt him, he can’t just let it go like it’s nothing. 

He thinks I’m asleep- but my thoughts are consuming me. He’s playing with my fingers, occasionally pressing his lips to my forehead. It’s adorable, and I love him so fucking much for all of this- but I really don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve his affection or his love- he could do so much better than me. I don’t know why he didn’t take the chance to leave me when I fucked up- he should have. It would’ve made his life significantly better- everyone’s lives would be better if I wasn’t in them.

If I was suicidal before the incident with Michael- I’m on the edge of ending my life now. I don’t want to be here anymore. All I do is fuck up- the world would be so much of a better place without me in it. 

My dad wouldn’t be in such a horrible mood, if he didn’t have such a fuck up of a son to deal with. My mum could relax, and stop worrying about me. Mali is perfect- she doesn’t make them worry, and she has always been able to please them. She’s in University right now, making it big. I think she’s majoring in Biochemical Engineering or some smart shit like that- exactly what my father wanted from her. He wanted the same thing for me, but I doubt that’ll happen.

I don’t understand schoolwork, mostly. It’s a jumble of letters and numbers, all mixing together and making reading so fucking difficult. My father would never understand that- he’d probably just tell me to stop daydreaming and actually focus, and maybe I’d understand it then. 

I’ve tried. I remember a multitude of times where I just sat on my bed and broke down in tears, because I was trying so fucking hard to understand Chemistry, and I just couldn’t. I’d read the chapter multiple times, but none of it was absorbed. I’m just dumb, that’s all I am. Stupid, mental, a fucking freak. 

I cut myself because I deserve it. And for all the people who wanna hug me and say I don’t, here’s your proof. I’m a shit son, an even worse brother, and a fucking horrible friend. I’m a waste of a person- I don’t even understand why I’m here. What purpose do I have, other than fucking up people’s lives and making everything worse? My grades are awful, I’ve lost almost all the people I used to be close with, and honestly? Honestly, I would rather be dead than go on another day in this life. 

Honestly, this fucking sucks, and I’m so fucking done. 

…

I guess I did end up falling asleep.

When I wake, hours later, I can detect a female voice talking to my mum in the kitchen. There’s no other girls in the house, except mum, unless…could she really be home?

“M-Mali?” I ask cautiously. 

“Aw, hey little brother.” My prediction is correct- my sister steps out of the kitchen behind my mum, her smile fading as she sees my state. Michael is no longer beside me, his lack of body heat is making me cold. I’m shivering, my foot’s propped up, and damn, I must look exhausted and even sick, at this point.

“Cal, Mikey’s parents wanted him home- and I thought you’d wanna spend some time with your sister,” Mum tells me. “We were supposed to go out for dinner, after your father gets home, but considering your injury- I think we’ll just order in and stay home for the night. Don’t want you up on that foot any sooner than you have to be, baby boy.”

A sense of guilt drapes itself over me- it’s my fault that we’re not going out. Just because I was stupid enough to roll my ankle practicing footie, we’re not going out. I bet Mali wanted to go out- and now we can’t. I’m so fucking stupid.

“Cal?” Mali glances at me. “How’s your foot, baby?”

“It hurts,” I mutter. “And don’t call me baby, I’m not a fucking baby.”

I watch her whisper something into our mum’s ear- and mum nods, leaning in and kissing my forehead, before turning and heading upstairs. Mali waits until she’s out of sight, before taking Michael’s old spot, and wrapping her arm around me.

“Now, tell your big sister what’s up,” she says gently. “I’m not trying to be rude, but Cal, you look like you’ve just been through hell and back.”

“Feels like I have been,” I whisper bitterly, swallowing back the lump in my throat. I will not cry in front of her. She doesn’t need to know that something is really wrong- she’s gonna go back soon, anyway- she’s leaving me to deal with everything, so why should I bother telling her shit?

“C’mon Calum,” Mali urges. “I can tell you’re trying not to cry- you can’t hide anything from me. I’ve known you since you were born, that’s fifteen years. There’s no way I won’t be able to tell. I’m not going to tell mum or dad, if that’s what you’re worried about. Whatever you say to me stays between us, I promise.”

“I’m s-sorry,” I choke out, wincing as my voice cracks painfully. There’s no use trying to hide it now- she’ll force it out of me, no matter what. I’m fucked.

“Oh, baby…” Mali sighs heavily, pulling me into her lap, carefully avoiding jostling my ankle. “I hate seeing you like this, you look so wrecked, Cal…” I bury my face in her stomach, letting my tears soak into her shirt.

“Cal, shhh, come on baby, relax, it’s just me,” she coos. “It’s just me. Remember? I’m not going to judge you for this, I wouldn’t dare. I’m your big sister, I’m here for you whenever you need me.”

“It’s so fucking hard, Mali.” My voice is hoarse and cracking all over the place, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “I’m doing horrible in school, and dad keeps on yelling at me…it hurts so much, and now my ankle, and I’m so fucking stressed, and Mikey’s not okay so I’m worried about him, and I just…I wanna die Mali, please let me die…”

“Oh, Calum…no, baby, don’t ever say that…” She kisses my hair, holding me close. “Don’t ever say that. You have so much to live for, so many people that love you. Do you want me to talk to dad? He’s being a real fucking dick, you don’t deserve that…”

“Dad loves you.” I ignore her previous statements for her last one, trying to avoid a conversation about suicide as much as I can.

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay for him to yell at my little brother over something he can’t control, and get away with it.”

…

We talked for a while, and then I fell asleep in my sister’s arms. 

I woke up with tearstained cheeks and bloodshot eyes- I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel like shit. I wish I could just go and die, right here, right now- but I know that that could never and would never happen. I can’t do that to Mali and Mikey- not right now, at least.

“Feel any better, baby?” Mali murmurs, kissing my cheek. “We ordered Chinese. The food just got here- you hungry?”

“No and yes,” I reply. “But I don’t wanna get up…”

“You don’t have to, Cal,” she promises. “I’ll bring you a plate. How does your ankle feel? Any better?”

“A bit,” I mutter. “Still kinda hurts, though…”

“I’m sorry.” Mali kisses my cheek again, before pulling her arm way and rising to her feet. “I’ll get you some food baby, be right back.”

Mali returns five minutes later, balancing two plates of food in her hands. She hands me one, and I look hungrily at the array of food. Fried rice, a dumpling, a spring roll, and chicken. This looks amazing- though I may not be Chinese, Chinese food is fucking amazing. The flavors they use are absolutely delicious. 

“Aw, you’re adorable. You’re smiling so big right now, Cal,” Mali coos, pinching my cheek. 

I growl at her, slapping her hand away. “M’not cute, m’punk rock. Don’t call me cute, that’s not punk rock.”

Mali rolls her eyes. “You, punk rock? That’s like saying cake is bitter- not possible.”

“Fuck you too,” I grumble, shoving her playfully. 

She smiles at me. “This is the Cal I know and love. I wish you were as carefree as you used to be- I know you’re broken, baby. I know how badly you’re hurting right now, and Cal, I’ve seen the scars on your stomach- that’s some serious shit, baby…”

All traces of happiness fade away, and I’m left staring at her in shock. “You…you saw…?”

“Shhh, relax. Mum and dad don’t know, and I’m not planning to tell them. But you need to promise me you’ll try and stop.”

“I…I’m so sorry Mali, but I don’t think I can…dad hurts me so much, and I can’t do anything else. This is my only escape- the blade is the only think that keeps me sane anymore. I promised Michael I wouldn’t, and I broke it. I don’t want to promise you something, to end up breaking it later. I’m sorry…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the thing- I'm actually considering making this story Malum and Lashton, instead of Cashton and Muke- originally I thought it'd be Cashton and Muke, but this story has taken a turn of its own, and the relationship between Michael and Calum is slowly nearing romance. Thoughts on that? Anyway, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed.


	13. Chapter 12

So Michael and Calum are friends again. And to me- that’s a good thing, a fucking amazing thing. But it’s a blessing and a curse at the same time. Calum was so miserable without Michael, I was the one who listened to him sob every night, begging for Michael to come and hold him.

And I don’t even know how he hurt his ankle- but it must’ve been bad- he still can’t walk. He’s on crutches, and Michael flanks him to every class, other than the ones I have with Calum. We carry his books and make sure he’s settled, before going to our own classes- we’ve cleared it with the school already. It’s all about making Calum comfortable. His foot isn’t broken- so it isn’t immobilized, meaning every movement causes him pain.

“You good, Cal?” I ask gently, as he limps beside me, into our history class.

He nods tiredly, hopping over to his chair. After sitting down, he hands me the crutches, and I lean them against the wall, before slipping into my seat behind him. I drape his backpack over the back of his chair, easy access for him. 

He grabs his notebook and opens to a fresh page, breathing an audible sigh. “I don’t wanna do this, Lukey. M’so fucking confused…”

“Confused? It’s not that hard, Cal…we’re doing American history, just the things that led up to the war with England. Like, the taxes and the Boston Tea Party and the Boston Massacre and shit? It’s the basic causes of the American Revolution.”

Calum nods, flipping pages in his notebook. “Is this really my notebook…? I can’t understand a lot of this, what the hell? I can barely read this shit, oh my god, I’m so stupid…”

There’s still a couple minutes before class starts, so I get up and crouch beside his desk, glancing over his notes and reading them through. What the fuck? I’ve never actually seen one of his notebooks, and holy shit, this looks absolutely horrendous. The letters are all jumbled, and his handwriting is awful. Dates are all mixed up- barely any of the information is accurate- no fucking _wonder_ he’s confused. His notes are all wrong, I’d be confused too, if those were my notes.

“Cal, this is…none of this is right, what happened…? Have you been reading the PowerPoints…? Don’t you just copy what the slide says when he projects it up there?”

Calum shakes his head. “I try, but he goes way too fast for me to write a lot down, and I can’t understand any of it…”

“Your handwriting is awful…that looks like a d, but it should be a b…” I point to the word, and Calum groans, pushing my hand away, before slamming his notebook shut.

“I’m stupid, okay?!” He growls. “I’m a fucking dumbass, and I always will be! Stop trying to help, Luke! I’m stupid, and that’s all I’ll ever be. I don’t fucking care if I fail anymore. If I fail, let me fucking fail!” And with that, he rests his head in his arms, pulling his hood up to cover his messy hair.

I can hear muffled whimpers and sobs coming from his hunched frame, but he hisses at me when I try and touch him. “Just forget it, Luke. Take _normal_ notes, because you’re a _normal_ student.” He sniffles loudly, his voice choking up. “You’re not stupid, like me.”

…

Calum doesn’t pick his head up for the rest of class. When Michael comes by at the end f the period, to help him to their next class- they have it together- he glances at me for an explanation, seeing as Calum hasn’t lifted his head to greet him. He’s usually very excited to see Michael, but today he just sniffles and curls further into himself, trying to hide from us. 

“He’s a little upset…” I tell Michael softly. “Look at his history notes, they’re a mess, and he can’t understand them…he thinks he’s stupid and shit…”

Michael nods in understanding, smile fading. He reaches out to shake Calum’s shoulder, rousing the broken boy. “Cal? Babe, come on, it’s just me. I’m not going to judge you, can you lift your head up for me, please?”

Calum sighs heavily, lifting his head to look at Michael. My heart breaks at his haggard appearance- the dark circles are much more prominent under his eyes- which are red-rimmed. His cheeks are blotchy, and I can still see him shaking, as he swallows back a sob. 

Michael’s face falls. He leans in and kisses Calum’s forehead, shooting me a grateful glance. “C’mon Cal, let’s get you up. I can’t carry you, I need you to grab your crutches for me.”

I grab his crutches, handing them to Calum, as he gets up, balancing on his good leg. He mumbles a thank you, shifting them under his arms, and starting to follow Michael out of the room. I grab my backpack, following them out of the classroom.

“Luke, Cal and I are ditching next period. I don’t think he’s in any state to learn shit, and I just wanna make sure he’s okay. You’re free to ditch with us, if you want, but you don’t have to.”

I consider it for a moment. I’m a straight A student- I don’t think there’s any harm in ditching a class- it’ll only be once, so I don’t think there’ll be a problem. “I’ll come with you guys. Where are you planning to go?”

“Courtyard. There’s a spot that we can go, where the teachers don’t check. Cal and I have been there before when we ditched, it’ll be fine. You okay, babe?” Michael directs the last question at Calum, placing a hand on his arm.

“M’fine. Just wanna cuddle,” Calum mutters. “Please.”

“Of course, Cal.” Michael speaks with such fondness, and it elicits a strange feeling in my chest. I’m not sure what the feeling is- it’s foreign, an emotion I’ve never felt before. 

We walk out into the courtyard, instantly being dismissed by a teacher, as he acknowledges Calum on crutches. To boot, Calum’s face is still streaked with tears, and he’s limping slowly. I can understand where he’s coming from- crutches are hell on your arms, they hurt, and you get tired easily. He hasn’t got anything to cushion the tops of pads either, so they’re digging into his underarms- and I imagine that can’t be very comfortable. 

We finally reach the spot Michael had mentioned- and I immediately see what he was referring to. It’s an alcove, canopied by leaves, quite hidden in the back of the courtyard. Once we’re all inside, the leaves go back into place- it looks like no one is inside. I can see why it’s effective in not catching teachers’ eyes.

Michael helps Calum over to the tree in the corner, taking his crutches, as the exhausted boy slumps onto his bum, back pressed against the trunk of the tree. I put my backpack down, sitting against the brick wall, tilting my head back. I think ditching was a good idea. I’m stressed, I’m tired, and forty minutes of just peace and quiet will do me good. I spend way too much time worrying about everyone else, and I never spend enough worrying about myself- that’s what Calum thinks, anyway. 

It’s silence for a few moments- and then I hear soft words of comfort- too quiet for me to distinguish. I glance over, my heart warming as I see Calum curled into Michael’s chest, the older boy murmuring softly in his ear, holding Calum close. Michael may not like me, but he definitely knows how to take care of Calum- the boy in question is curled against him with a sleepy smile on his face, nodding as Michael coos into his ear.

He giggles as Michael tickles him, and that makes another pang explode in my heart. The relationship that they have is absolutely adorable- Michael takes care of Calum in every way possible- other than the sexual way, don’t even go there, you fucking crazies. And Calum obviously needs it- he’s reliant on Michael- that’s why he was so torn apart when they fought. He needs Michael to be okay, and now I see why.

“You alright over there, Luke?” Calum calls. 

I nod. “I’m good, just thinking. You look happier.”

“You have Mikey to thank for that,” Calum murmurs. “He makes me laugh all the time, I love him so much. He makes me happy when no one else can, and he’s the only one who knows everything about me. That’s why I was so bad after the fight…I need Michael, I need him to be okay. He holds me together- and he’s the only one who can.”

Michael grumbles something playfully, slapping Calum’s arm, and Calum leans up, kissing his cheek. I should be annoyed at how close they are- I’m pretty much third-wheeling, to be honest, but I really don’t care. I really love seeing how close they are- it makes _me_ happy, and that’s not an emotion I feel very often.

I want to be happy, but there’s not a lot of things in my life that make me happy, I have shitty ass parents and dickheads for brothers- who seem to love teasing me. As much as I hate this hellhole, school is my only escape anymore. I can get away from my parents and brothers for eight hours- which is fucking amazing. It’s come to the point where I wouldn’t mind them dying, because I hate them so much.

They’ve damaged me. They’re the reason I starve myself. They’re the reason I look in the mirror, and absolutely fucking _hate_ what I see. They’re the reason for my insecurities- for my anxiety, for everything. Teasing is all in good fun, but there is a point where it becomes too much- and I don’t think they understand that concept. There’s a limit to everything, including how far you can push a person.

And I’ve definitely been pushed past it- way more times than I care to count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically where you can see the true heights of the Malum relationship- what they have is very special, and that's why I think I am going to change this story to Malum and Lashton. This means that I can add a plotline for Luke and Ash, which I believe you all will like very much- something I probably couldn't have done if I'd kept Cashton and Muke. Anyway- from reading this, you most likely know why Cal struggles so much in school- and yes, that was my intention all along. Thoughts on that? Thank you for reading- I hope you enjoyed.


	14. Chapter 13

I haven’t heard from my mum in over a week. 

She doesn’t leave the house when I’m here- she most likely goes before I get up, and comes home after I’ve gone to bed. It’s almost like she’s avoiding me- and that hurts. She’s my fucking mum, she’s supposed to love me and care about me and want the best for me. She’s supposed to be a mum to me, not a total stranger. I shouldn’t have to raise her kids.

It just frustrates me, and I hate myself because of that. I shouldn’t be upset about taking care of my siblings- I’m their older brother, it’s an unsaid duty of mine. It just…I’m so stressed and so exhausted- I never do my homework because I don’t have time, I’m failing almost every class, and I just wanna die. I want to get hit by a bus, or shot in the head, or walk out into oncoming traffic.

I’ve actually considered it a few times- walking out into oncoming traffic. It can easily be passed off as an accident- but I’d inevitably end up in the hospital, and CPS would get involved, because I doubt my mother would show up. She wouldn’t give a fucking shit, if he son died. I don’t even think she loves any of us.

It really does hurt- she was fine until my father left, right after Harry was born. I was seven, Lauren was three, and he was a newborn. I was the only one old enough to know my father- and his absence has left unhealable scars on my heart. I wasn’t good enough for my father to stay- I was that much of a disappointment to him. I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t worthy enough to be his son.

I don’t feel like I’m worthy enough to even be on this Earth. No one loves or cares about me- the people that say they do are just lying to themselves. I’m not worth being loved or cared for- there’s no point in trying to fix the broken mess that I am, so why bother? Why bother trying to fix something that’s too broken? Why bother trying to help someone that’s too far deep? No one has ever wanted me- and maybe that’s the reason I’m so against people actually caring about me now.

My father abandoned me, my mother doesn’t give a fucking shit about me, the only friends I have are Michael, Louis, and Zayn, and my life is just falling apart at the fucking seams. 

I’m a fucking disappointment.

And that’s all I’ll ever be.

…

Today’s been a bad day. 

School was terrible- Michael ditched study hall and gym, I think he was comforting one of his friends, so he said he’d talk me later on, but…I just kinda felt that emptiness. Michael is the only person I communicate with in school, and I just felt so fucking alone. On top of that, I failed my Physics test, and gym…let’s not even get into the details of gym. I was forced to wear a sweatshirt, to hide my arms, and since we were inside- let’s just say, I was sweating like a fucking dog.

I got weird looks from so many people- I can tell that there are some acquaintances who suspect that there’s something wrong, but I’m not going to react, even if they do try to help me. I’m at the point where I really don’t want to be helped, and I wish people would learn to understand that. I’m at the point of no return, and everything just hurts…

“Ash? You look like you’re somewhere else. Penny for your thoughts?”

I shake myself back into reality, glancing at Michael. He’s standing in front of me, shifting his backpack on his shoulder. I scoot over, curling into the corner of the wall, making room for him. He sits down beside me, immediately coaxing me to rest my head on his shoulder. I give in- he’s warm, and I’m fucking freezing. 

“I’m sorry I left you today,” Michael says softly. “Cal was really upset, and I had to help him…”

I sigh, reaching for my phone. _It’s okay, Mikey. Harry and Lauren are both being picked up by Lou today, so I really don’t have to worry about that much. You can go back to Calum, it’s alright. I don’t mind._

Michael shakes his head. “Cal’s home, he’s asleep. He needs his rest, and you need me. I’ve been a shit friend recently, I’m sorry. But I’m here now- so tell me what’s up, why don’t you?”

_It’s complicated, Mike. I don’t even understand it half the time. I don’t know what’s wrong with me._

“There is nothing wrong with you, Ash,” Michael murmurs. He presses his lips to the side of my head, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “You’re not defective. You’re just lost, you’re trying to find your way…it’s alright, happens to the best of us.”

_You’re not okay either. Don’t think I don’t know, Mikey. I know how much you hate yourself- you’ve made that obvious. How can you wanna help me, when you haven’t even recovered, yourself?_

“Because I know that I can’t- and I _won’t_ get better in a matter of days or weeks. It’ll be months, even years, and that’s _if_ I decide to choose the path to recovery. And Ashton, I hate seeing you like this, it fucking kills me. You’re so stressed and exhausted- if there was something I could do to help, believe me, I’d do it in a second. I hate seeing you suffer like this.”

 _You worry way too much about me, Mikey._ I roll my eyes at him, punching his shoulder lightly. _I’ll be alright. How’s your dad, how are things at home? Does Cal know he hits you?_

Michael stiffens. “No. Don’t you dare tell him- he has enough on his plate right now. I don’t want him to worry. I don’t deserve that.”

_Then how come I deserve people worrying about me? How come you can worry about me, when you can’t let your oldest friend worry about you?_

“Because he’s struggling in school, he’s struggling at home, and he’s dealing with a very badly sprained ankle, to boot. He has enough to deal with- without adding me and my shitty ass father into the mix. I’m the one comforting him, not the other way around.”

_Everyone breaks sometime, Michael._

That’s true for me as well- I know that there’s some point in time, when I’ll hit my breaking point. When all of this will become too fucking much, and I’ll end up doing something drastic- something that’ll shake my family to its core. Things would never be the same, if I tried to end my life, but I just…I really want to. I really want to just be fucking _finished_ with this shitty ass world. It’s done nothing but cause me pain, tear my family apart, and make me miserable.

…

I’m nervous, walking to the coffee shop. 

Louis and Zayn called me and asked me to come in- but I’m not scheduled to work today, so I’m really fucking confused. I don’t know what this is about- but the racing of my heart only signifies that it can’t be good. I don’t know what to think right now, but my anxiety is pushing the negative in front of the positive- almost like it wants me to focus on the shit that’ll make my depression worse. 

As I open the door to the shop, I hear Zayn’s stern voice. “He does not speak. Don’t ask him why, don’t try and get him to talk to you- none of it. He doesn’t talk, but he can hear you perfectly fine- you don’t need to scream at him. If any of you ask him why he doesn’t talk, or make him the _slightest_ bit uncomfortable, I will chop off your balls and feed them to Harry’s cat.”

My heart stops. Who the _fuck_ is he talking to? And who’s Harry? Did they ask me here so I could meet the new coworkers, or something along those lines? I can feel myself starting to sweat, heart racing and pounding in my chest. I’m not ready for this- I can’t do this on such short notice. I can’t do this.

I’ll just go back home, call Louis, and tell him that there’s no one to watch the kids. I’ll make something up and avoid this entirely- because I _know_ it won’t end well. 

“Ash!”

Shit. Louis grabs my collar and pulls me into the shop, his eyes softening at my panicked state. He leans in and kisses my forehead, shaking his head in reassurance. “Don’t worry, babe. I know you heard Zayn- we just want you to meet our friends- they’re not going to hurt you, you have no reason to be scared. It’s completely informal, they get that you’ve got problems and you don’t talk. Please don’t worry yourself, baby, everything is okay.”

 _You should’ve warned me I’m so fucking scared why would you pull something like this_ I don’t care about proper grammar at this point- I’m shaking and I don’t think I can do this.

Louis sighs. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, baby. We wanted to, but then we decided this would be easier. Everything is going to be fine, you’ll be with me or Z the entire time, and if you’re really uncomfortable, we can make an excuse for you to leave.”

I choose not to respond, letting him lead me into the shop. I see three guys sitting on one of the couches, and Zayn standing beside them- but when we enter, all three heads swivel to look at me.

“Oh Ash, there you are,” Zayn says quickly. He takes two steps over to us, reaching out to hug me. “Are you okay?” I shake my head against him, and he squeezes me tighter, kissing my cheek. “You’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Alright, Harry, Liam, Niall, this is Ashton. He’s the other guy who works here- he’s a senior at the high school. And Ash, these are our friends, Harry, Liam, and Niall.” Louis points to each one in turn- I see that Harry is a lanky lad with a head of curly hair and striking green eyes. His smile is genuine, and he lifts his hand in a wave. Liam is a strong, muscular guy, with chocolate eyes, and buzzed hair. He gives me a bright grin. I force myself to smile back- hopefully it isn’t look too fake. And finally, Niall. He looks different- his hair is blonde, spiked on the top of his head. His eyes are an electric blue, and he grins and waves as well.

“Nice to meet you, Ashton,” Liam says gently. “You’re shaking- we’re sorry if we scared you, but don’t worry, none of us bites. Unless you’re in Niall’s way when he’s starving.”

Niall scoffs, slapping Liam’s arm playfully. 

“The reason we wanted to introduce you to them, Ash, is because Zayn and I have something to tell you…” Louis murmurs. 

All sense of relief vanish, and I’m left shaking, staring at Louis blankly. He smiles at me. “Don’t look so terrified, baby. The thing we wanted to tell you, is that I’m dating Harry, and Zayn is dating Liam. That’s why we wanted you to meet them, and Niall’s just along for the ride- he’s the only straight one in our group.”

…

 

“Ash, are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself…”

Lauren looks at me in concern, her eyes narrowed. I nod slightly, motioning her over. She makes her way over to the couch, sitting beside me and resting her head on my chest. “You seem sad, Ash…are you sad?”

I sigh. There’s nothing I hate more than lying to her, but telling her the truth is out of the question. I don’t want her knowing how depressed and suicidal I am, she’s far too young to be thinking about those things. 

_I’m okay, baby. I’m just really tired and stressed, because of school. Senior year is shit, but I’ll be okay, I promise. Don’t worry about me._

Lauren rolls her eyes. “I’m not stupid, Ashton. I can see how withdrawn and distant you’re becoming. You are far from okay. I know it’s hard to take care of us and make meals and shit, but you can’t neglect your health. Don’t think I just dismiss the times you don’t eat.”

_I don’t eat because I’m not hungry, it’s fine._

“Bullshit. You can’t not be hungry at every meal. You’re not eating, because you think there won’t be enough for me and Harry. And trust me, there will be. And even if not, we can grab something from the coffee shop. Louis and Zayn said that our food and drinks would be on the house, anyway.”

_That’s not fair, baby. It’s not fair for them to give us free shit, when they have to charge everyone else. Sure, they’re trying to help, but it isn’t fair to the rest of their customers, and I don’t want them to do that for us._

“Why won’t you let people help, Ash? You can’t do this on your own, no matter how hard you try…you’re a mess right now, anyone who has eyes can see it. Let Louis and Zayn help us- we’ve been friends of theirs for years now, they know how badly we’re struggling. If we just let them help, everything can start getting back to normal, and soon, we won’t even need their help anymore.”

_Please, Lauren. I don’t wanna argue with you right now, I have no energy to debate over this. We can’t let them fight all our battles- there are some times when we have to do things on our own, and this is one of those times. You need to stop worrying about everything, that’s my job. You just focus on year eight, getting good grades, and having fun with your friends. The rest is my issue._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...for the Muke/Cashton vs Lashton/Malum thing- I've thought about some times, and I'm not sure. I don't think I'll be doing Malum/Lashton- but I haven't decided on anything yet. I'm leaning toward Muke/Cashton, after reworking my outline, and getting my best friend's input. Anyway- thoughts on the chapter? Ashton is spiraling downward, isn't he? What do you guys think about his conversation with Lauren?


	15. Chapter 14

“I hate being stupid, Mikey…I really hate it.”

Calum curls himself closer to me, hiding his face in my neck. I feel wetness on my skin moments later- the thought of him crying breaking my heart. He’s not stupid. He’s not dumb. I hate listening to him tell himself that, because I know he believes it. I know he thinks he’s a stupid, worthless disappointment- but that’s far from the truth. 

“You’re not stupid, Cal…please stop saying it, you’re really not stupid. You’re so smart, you’ll never be stupid.”

Calum sighs against me. “T-Then why don’t I understand anything, Mikey? It’s all gibberish…I can’t understand what I’m reading, so it’s really hard to take notes, and when I do, the letters look all weird- and Luke told me what we were learning about and I barely remember any of it…”

“That’s not your fault, baby. You’re struggling, it isn’t your fault. You’re trying your best- that’s all that matters.” I thread a hand through his short hair. “That’ll never be your fault- you’re trying your best, it’s hard, I get it. It’s so fucking hard, you don’t need to know everything.”

“It’s not hard for you. And my dad doesn’t care if I’m trying my best,” Calum whispers. “He wants me to be the best- number fucking one. And I just…I don’t wanna be a nerd, and I know I never will be. I’m not smart. I’m a fucking idiot- I can’t pass anything, the only reason I’m in good classes now, is because my parents talked the school into putting me in them. I’m so fucking stupid, Mikey. I don’t wanna go to school anymore- it’s just stress and pain and I hate it so much.”

“Nothing’s easy for me, either. I just do my homework, because it distracts me from the depression and how suicidal I am. I bullshit a lot of it- it just passes time, time until I can sleep and hope not to wake up the next morning.” 

A dry sob escapes him. “I wanna die so fucking bad, Mikey…”

“I know, Cal…” My heart is breaking. He’s going through so much, and it really hurts to see him like this- broken inside, and trying his best to hang on for just mere minutes. “Shhh, let’s not talk about that now. It’s a shitty subject and makes you feel horrid, let’s talk about happy things.”

“Death. Death would make me happy,” Calum grumbles. 

“Cal.” I pull away from him to look him in the eye. “Don’t go there.”

“I’m sorry I’m so fucking suicidal,” Calum retorts, pushing away from me. “I’ll stop bothering you.”

“Hey, no, you know I didn’t mean it like that…” I backtrack, pulling him back to my chest. “I know you’re really suicidal, and it’s okay. I’m suicidal too- but my point was, let’s not talk about shit that’s gonna make us even worse.”

Calum sighs. “I don’t know what else I can focus on. It’s like the depression is taking over- I’m so scared I’m gonna end it soon…I’m scared of what I’m capable of, at this point.”

My face falls, and I just hold him tighter, squeezing him to my chest- not wanting him to ever leave my arms. He’s my brother and I want him to be safe, protected from the harshness that is this world. It’s been much too cruel to him- he deserves a sanctuary. 

“Mikey?”

I glance at him. He lets his head flop against my chest, nuzzling against me. “Can we just cuddle, until we both fall asleep?”

“Good idea.”

…

Calum’s still asleep in my arms, his head lolled to the side. His chest rises and falls steadily, as he breathes, making him look so innocent. When he’s asleep, it doesn’t look like he’s been ravaged by the world- he still looks like the picturesque teenager. Just by looking at him, you probably wouldn’t know how broken he is. He still wears band shirts and sweatpants every day- sweats, because those are the only pants he owns that don’t tighten around his injured ankle. 

He doesn’t look like the type to cut himself- but if I were to pull up his shirt, I’d see countless cuts and scars. It hurts to know that he’s done that to himself- yet, I’m a hypocrite for saying so. Pulling away from Calum, I push up my own sleeves, smiling sadly at the array of red cuts. There are so many- lining my entire arm, from my wrist, all the way up my bicep. I can’t even wear short-sleeved shirts anymore- one look and my addiction is obvious.

I’m not gonna lie- I’m not a fan of slicing into my own skin for relief. I don’t like thinking about my death in full detail. And I certainly don’t like being the depressed fucking freak that I am. But I can’t change anything- you can’t just stop being depressed- depression does not work that way. It takes a lot of strength and courage to recover- neither of which I possess. I don’t have the courage to quiet cutting, and I’m in no way strong enough to start recovering.

I’ve accepted that I’ll be a depressed freak for the rest of my life. Once I turn eighteen, I can get out of the hellhole I call a house, move in with Calum, and then, things might start to look up. The only thing is- will I live that long? Will Calum live that long?

I’m so fucking worried about him- he shouldn’t be this suicidal- it’s not good for him, and the pain is agonizing. I hate how shitty he feels- he’s done nothing to deserve it. I really just wish everything could be okay, temporarily. Like, a period of time when there is no stress, no worrying, nothing- where everything is finally okay. Because at this point- none of us are okay, and I’m not sure what to do anymore. Everything is fucking falling apart, and I’m stuck wondering whether holding things together is even worth it anymore. 

…

“You gonna be okay?”

Calum nods, as I lean in, ruffling his hair, pressing my lips to his forehead. “Thanks, Mikey. Better being at yours than mine, anyway.”

“Tell your mum that she can drop you off here whenever you need a break, yeah?” I tell him gently. “Any time, even if it’s in the middle of the night, or even if I’m not home. I’d much rather you be here, than in your own hell of a house.”

“I will, Mikey,” Calum says, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. His mum honks her horn, from where she’s waiting- in front of my house- that’s Calum’s cue to leave.

“Let me help you into the car, yeah?” I offer, guiding him down the front walk. He crutches toward his mum’s car carefully, and I reach out to open the door for him. I help him settle in, before handing him his crutches, and giving him a small wave.

“Bye Mikey, love you,” Calum murmurs.

“Bye Cal, love you too, text me.”

Calum nods, and I close the car door, watching as his mum drives off. Turning around, I jog back into my house, shutting the door and locking it behind me. I have a couple hours to myself now- my father had to drive up to Perth for a job thing, so he’s gonna stay up there tonight. 

I grab my phone off the couch, slipping it into my pocket, as I make my way up into my room. I plan on just spending the afternoon listening to music and relaxing- I have homework, but if you think I’m doing that, there must be something seriously wrong with you. 

My phone vibrates, and when I glance at it, my eyes widen.

_From: Unknown number_

_Hey Mikey, it’s Luke. Calum gave me your number, I think I know why he’s having so much trouble at school. I’ve been researching shit all afternoon, do me a favor and go look up the symptoms for dyslexia, and see if Calum fits the criteria_

I stare, dumbfounded, at my phone. Luke got my number from Calum, and now he’s texting me and thinking there’s something wrong with Calum? What the fuck?

_To: Luke_

_No. There’s nothing wrong with Calum, he’s fine. And I wouldn’t do it anyway, why would I do something you tell me to do?_

Luke’s reply comes in a minute later, and damn, for the most awkward kid ever, he can be sassy when he wants to be. 

_From: Luke_

_I know you don’t like me. And you’re not obligated to like me- I couldn’t care less. But we’re talking about Calum here. Have you seen his notes, Mikey? His b’s look like d’s, and his a’s are backwards, and that’s not even a fourth of it. There is something wrong- and if you really love your best friend, your **brother** , you’ll go look up the symptoms of dyslexia._

I grumble to myself, pulling my laptop onto my thighs, and typing ‘dyslexia symptoms’ into Google. I click the first article that comes up, and begin to skim through it. 

• Has a hard time remembering things  
• Slow with reading and comprehension  
• The easiest reading and writing tasks become very complicated   
• Trouble summarizing/outlining  
• Poor memory  
• Completes assignments very slowly  
• Limited vocabulary   
• Poor handwriting

My eyes widen- Calum fits almost all of those perfectly. The only thing he doesn’t really fit is the limited vocabulary- his vocabulary has never seemed very limited to me. But the other ones are almost exactly what he’s been going through, these past few months. I hate to say it, but I really do think Luke’s right. It’s a good thing- knowing there’s a reason he’s having so many problems in school, and doing so shitty- but the truth is hard to swallow.

I think Calum is dyslexic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Feedback would be lovely- thanks for reading.


	16. Chapter 15

Using my foot as an excuse isn’t the best idea- but it works.

I told my mum that it hurt too much for me to come downstairs- and she kissed my forehead, told me that Mali would bring up my dinner, and set off to talk to my father. She’s really amazing- when my father isn’t around, she’s the mum everyone wants. When he’s yelling at me, she jumps over the fence and agrees with his every word- and that pisses me off. I kinda hate that she never takes my side- sometimes my father is extremely unreasonable, and I’m left to fend for myself. 

I sigh, shaking my head as I lift my ankle onto the pillows at the edge of my bed. It still does hurt- but I probably could’ve went downstairs- it’s not bad enough that it’s unbearable. Not yet, at least.

“Cal?” Mali pauses in the doorway, balancing tray that holds two plates loaded with food. I beckon her inside, and she comes over to my bedside, setting the tray on my lap. Taking one of the plates, she climbs onto the bed next to me, settling it in her lap.

“M’surprised dad let you come up here and eat with his fuck up of a son,” I mutter, taking a bite out of the noodles and chewing thoughtfully.

Mali lifts her head, glaring at me. “Stop that. You are _not_ a fuck up. Dad’s being stupid- I told you I’d talk to him, but you refused.”

“Because he’ll yell at me for dragging you into it. It’s fine, Mali. I’m just…I’m bitter, I’m sorry. I want to be done with this shit. I hate him so fucking much- sorry, I know he’s our father and you love him, but he treats me like shit, so I hate him.”

Mali shakes his head. “No, don’t apologize. I know you hate him- and you’ve got a definite right to. He’s being an absolute dick to you, there’s no reason to like him. He needs to realize how badly he’s hurting you. There is nothing wrong with you- but there is something wrong with how far he’s pushing you.”

“It’s just hard, Mali…I feel like I’m trapped, and the walls are closing in around me. There’s nothing I can do to stop them from trapping me- making me feel suffocated. I can barely breathe, I have no space anymore- all my grades are horrible, and I get frustrated when I can’t understand shit. I’m trying so hard, and I just wanna die, I’m so sick of this shit. I can’t do anything right anymore, and it hurts so much…”

Malik pushes her plate to the side, removing the tray from my lap, and climbs onto my lap. She pulls me into a tight hug, letting me rest my head on her shoulder. “I had no idea,” she mutters. “No fucking idea how bad it really is for you. I’ll talk to dad, baby. I’ll talk to dad, and I’ll tell him that he needs to cut you some slack.”

“You’ll leave in a couple days anyway, and he’ll start to be a dick again…”

Mali lifts my head up- my tearstained eyes meeting hers. “Who said I was going anywhere? I have break, and even after it finishes- I’m not going anywhere, until dad promises he’ll stop being so harsh on you. I’ve left you before- and you ended up turning to a blade. I am not leaving you by yourself, _ever_ again.”

…

“Mali, Cal? Can I talk to you guys?”

Michael is standing at the front door, looking at us both nervously. I motion him in with a sweep of my hand, not bothering to move. My head is in my sister’s lap, and she’s playing with my hair, while we both are watching Finding Nemo. An old, children’s movie- but one with a lot of nostalgic moments- it makes us laugh and smile, and that’s what the goal is.

Michael sits down on the other couch, regarding us cautiously. “Now, before I say anything, I want you both to wait until I finish, to speak. I know you may not like what I’m about to say- but please, hear me out?”

I’m nervous- what could he possibly have to say? Is it something that’ll cost us our friendship? I definitely hope not- I can’t risk another fight with him. I can’t risk yelling at him for any reason. I’m already doing bad enough- something like that will break me. 

“Of course, Michael,” Mali says gently. “Go ahead.”

“Okay so, Luke texted me yesterday, and told me to look up the symptoms of dyslexia. When I asked him why he asked me to…he told me that he thinks you might be dyslexic, Cal, and that’s why you’re having so much trouble in school. I looked up the symptoms, and you fit almost every one- I’m inclined to agree with him on this, I think you’re dyslexic. And you might think it’s a bad thing, but it explains why your notes are all wrong, why you can’t read test questions properly, why you have a hard time doing homework and shit, things like that. It’s what’s holding you back, Calum.”

I stare at him. Dyslexia? He thinks I’m dyslexic? He thinks there’s something wrong with me? I open my mouth to protest, but my sister shakes her head, slapping her hand over my mouth and taking her own turn to speak. “That’s…that would explain a lot, Mikey, but…we can’t be sure of anything, until we get him tested for it. There’s certain kinds of tests that he would need to go through, to diagnose him properly.”

“But I’m not dyslexic!” I protest, shaking her hand off. “That’s fucking bull, there’s nothing wrong with me! You’re just trying to prove that I’m a mess, aren’t you? You just want to prove to my parents that there is something wrong with me, and that I am a fuck up, right?!”

Michael shakes his head vigorously. “No, no, Cal- that isn’t our intention at all. If you’re diagnosed as dyslexic- there’s something impending you from doing well in school. When your father finds out, he’ll realize why you’re having so much trouble. It isn’t because you’re lazy or unmotivated- you’re trying your best, this learning disorder is just making life so much harder for you.”

“Does Luke agree with you…?” I whisper. “You both think I’m a fuck up?”

“You are _not_ a fuck up,” Michael says firmly. “He was the one who told me about this, yes, but he thought I should be the one to break the news, since you and I are really close. I’m not trying to call you out, Cal- you’re extremely intelligent- it’s been proven that dyslexics have a high IQ and are really very smart people, they just have trouble reading and writing properly.”

“Cal, baby, I think Mikey brings up a very good point. It doesn’t hurt to get you tested- and if you don’t have dyslexia, we’ll work on some ways you can start improving in school. How does that sound?”

“I guess I could try…”

…

My parents weren’t too happy to learn about the testing- but Mali convinced them. She’d make a great lawyer, her arguments are very convincing. The testing was scheduled immediately- I wanted to get it over as quickly as possible. I’ve just finished it, and it wasn’t that bad, but it wouldn’t be something I want to do on a daily basis, of course.

It’s boring, mundane, I’m not surprised about that. I limp out of the evaluator’s office, sitting on a chair outside to wait, while he figures out the numbers and shit. The testing was kinda tiring- concentrating on those passages and shit was giving me a headache- I’m glad it’s over. I really just wish I could get this all over with, and go back to normal.

“How’d it go, baby?” Mali asks gently, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “Was it alright?”

I nod. “Wasn’t too bad, just kinda boring and shit. Dunno what the result will be, but he said he should have then in the next few minutes, according to some weird-ass technology they’ve developed.”

“Okay, that’s good,” she murmurs. “Mikey went to the bathroom, he should be out soon, and then we can just relax and wait, yeah? Whatever happens, we will always love you for who you are- it doesn’t matter whether you have a learning disability or not, you’re still my brother and Michael’s best friend. We love you more than fucking anything, and that’ll never change.”

I mumble something incoherent to signify that I’ve heard, curling closer to her. I hear the bathroom door slam shut, and Michael walks out. He catches a glimpse of me, eyes brightening, as he comes over.

“Well? How’d it go?”

“Results should be in soon. He’s tired, don’t pester him too much,” Mali informs him. Michael gives her a soft affirmative, sitting down in the chair on my other side. I move away from my sister to curl into him, resting my head on his shoulder. I wince, lifting my head up in shock- I can feel his collar bones sticking out prominently…they were never that visible before. Is he getting thinner?

“What’s wrong, Cal?” Michael says nervously. “Come here, lay back down. You’re tired, just rest for a few minutes.”

Making a mental note to ask him about the weight loss later, I rest my head back down, closing my eyes. 

I don’t know how long it’s been- but the office door opens, and Michael shakes me gently. I open my eyes, focusing on the man in front of us drowsily. 

“Calum, I’m not sure if this is good or bad news- but the results are in. You are indeed dyslexic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a medical professional- I did research, but I have no idea how these things work, so ignore me if I got something completely inaccurate. It's fiction, so let's just say that's me using my creative license. Anyway, thoughts? Now that Calum is diagnosed, do you think things will get easier? Thanks for reading- I hope you enjoyed.


	17. Chapter 16

“How’d it go, guys?”

Calum lets his crutches clatter to the ground, as he reaches out to hug me. I hug back immediately, and he buries his face in my shoulder, mumbling something incoherent. His voice is muffled by my shirt, so I really can’t understand what he’s trying to tell me. 

“Repeat that,” I say, pulling away slightly, but still keeping my arms around his waist so he doesn’t fall. He grins at me, and seeing him so happy is absolutely heart warming. It’s been so long since I’ve seen a genuine smile on his face. I’ve missed it. 

“I’m dyslexic. That’s why I’ve been doing so shitty with everything,” Calum replies breathlessly. “I’m going to be moved into easier classes, and they’re getting me a tutor to help me out with the work and shit.”

“That’s awesome, Cal.” I smile at him. He looks happier- and I know why he is. Because he was diagnosed with dyslexia, his father can’t blame him for doing shit in school. He has a disability preventing him from doing the normal thing that other kids do- and once his father understands that, Calum’s home life should start to get better. “I’m happy for you.”

“No, Luke, you don’t get it.” Calum’s voice takes on a much more serious note. “They said I can pick whether I want a student or a teacher to tutor me, and I picked student, because it’s a lot easier to understand something when someone my age is explaining it. So, I picked you. You’re my new tutor, Lucas, if you accept.”

…

I accepted, obviously.

Helping Calum out is something I’d definitely do- no regrets or second thoughts. He’s been struggling so much- it’s important that he finally realizes he’s not a lost cause. And if I can help him see that, I’ll be over the moon. He said he was considering me and Michael- but I do better in school than Michael, so he picked me. I wasn’t surprised- Michael only does the bare minimum, when it comes to schoolwork. He really doesn’t give a damn anymore- and I’m nearing that point, too.

Hypothetically, I could ace everything and achieve the highest grade in the class, but I really don’t feel like doing that. My depression is only getting worse- the motivation I have is reduced to almost nothing. I’m getting closer and closer to the edge- and trust me, it hurts like fucking hell. My insecurities are my biggest enemy, the voices inside my head preventing me from even attempting to recover. When depression hits, it hits hard, leaving no mercy, no room to breathe, no way to escape. 

I don’t like to talk about my insecurities very much- all this time, throughout all the drama with Calum and Michael, I’ve been forcing my body to go without food. I’ve been purposefully depriving myself- of food, mainly because I’m sick of everyone calling me ‘fatass Hemmings’. I’m spiraling downward, but I keep it all to myself, because I don’t want people worrying about me. I hate people looking at me, scrutinizing me to make sure I’m okay. I want to blend in with the crowd- I want to be a shadow in the darkness- I want to be broken forever. I don’t know how it feels to recover- depression is all I know, and I’m definitely not ready to let go of that. It’s almost like it has wrapped its arms around me, enveloping me in a soft blanket of comfort. Suicidal thoughts, depression, pills- it’s a vicious cycle that I can’t get out of. 

Calum and Michael know nothing- I don’t even know whether I can consider Michael a friend or not. I haven’t really talked to him very much, and he’s tending to avoid me- I don’t know why. It’s fucking weird- and I hate to say it, but it kinda hurts. I really would enjoy talking to Michael- he’s different from Calum.

Michael is interesting. He’s an enigma- very different from Calum. He seems like an amazing person to talk to- considering his views on shit. He’s very quiet, and I always see him writing in a notebook. I don’t know what he’s writing- but it seems very important to him. He doesn’t let anyone see the notebook- not even Calum. I’ve seen his eyes darken, every time Calum asks to see the notebook. It’s something secretive to him- and I don’t want to pry. 

I just…feel like Michael and I would connect very well. We’re quite similar in personality, and I think he’d be a good person to talk to and get advice from. I just…I have no clue why he hates me, but he does, and sometimes it fucking hurts. Sometimes, it fucking hurts to see him walk away when I approach him and Calum. I just wish I knew what I’m doing wrong- I’d love to fix it, and get to know Michael better. 

…

I guess my outlet is singing. 

I’ve been posting covers on YouTube- very simple ones, really, just me and the guitar. I don’t think I’m that good, but the amount of views and comments on my videos say otherwise. I’ve got quite a few up- as I told Calum before, my dream is to become a professional musician. I wonder, though…I’ve thought about asking Michael and/or Calum if they’ll be in a band with me.

It’s be great to start a band- making music for fun, writing our own songs that could possibly save people, just as All Time Low, Blink-182, and Green Day’s songs have. It’d be fucking surreal to have even half an effect on people, as those bands do. It’d be fucking amazing to save lives- I can’t imagine what knowing that feels like. I want to be someone’s reason to live. I want to be the reason someone smiles. I want to be important to _someone_ , because at this point- I’m important to _no one_ , and the mere thought fucking kills.

I just want people to take me seriously for once in my life- if I told anyone that my dream is to be in a band, to be someone like Oli Sykes or Alex Gaskarth- I’d be laughed at for days. That’s my dream, and it’s never going to go away- but I doubt it’ll happen. I doubt I could make it as big as they have. They’re the reason I’m still here- and I’d love to be the reason someone else is still here…but I doubt I’ll ever be.

“Luke, you in there?”

I blink, focusing on Calum. He’s leaning on his crutches, right in front of me, Michael at his side. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“The bell rang two minutes ago, you looked lost in thought- you okay?”

I nod, grabbing my bag and swinging it over my shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Alright, I have study hall right now, so Luke, you’re on Calum duty,” Michael announces. He hands me Calum’s backpack, chuckling as the older boy groans.

“Don’t call it ‘Calum duty’, that makes it sound weird as fuck. You’re such a fucking dick, Mikey.” Calum glares at him, reaching out to thump Michel on the forehead. The black-haired boy clutches his forehead dramatically, looking at Calum in shock. 

“Damn, that fucking stings, you’ve killed me, Calum. Love you too.” Michael feigns hurt, dropping a kiss on top of Calum’s head, before turning and walking in the other direction. This is normal- they do it every day, but my question is- why the _fuck_ did I feel weird when Michael kissed his forehead? This hasn’t ever happened before, but now it’s really weird- why the hell do I feel almost _jealous_ of Calum?

…

“Oh, mum, I hope you made enough food! I didn’t know little fatass Hemmings was joining us for dinner!” Jack crows.

Hurt fills me, as I slide onto my chair, avoiding everyone’s eyes. I _know_ I’m fat, I just wish they’d stop reminding me every goddamn chance they get. It’s irritating, they’re just confirming what I already know and _despise_ about myself. 

“Aw, is the baby gonna cry? Stop being so sensitive, it’s just a joke!”

“It isn’t very funny,” I mumble, staring at my empty plate. “It hurts.”

“Luke, for fuck’s sakes! We’re only joking, you’re not fat!”

My eyes widen, and I finally raise my head, glaring at him. “You’re only joking? Well, can’t you see from how I’m _not laughing,_ that your joke is far from fucking funny?! Don’t you realize how much I fucking hate being called ‘fatass Hemmings’?! Why would you call me that, and then two minutes later, contradict it entirely by saying I’m not fat? Why is calling your little _brother_ fat a joke?! You know what _is_ a fucking joke, though? Living in this goddamn house. I hate all four of you with every single fiber in me, you’ve damaged me to the point of no return, and maybe _that’s_ why I’m so quiet. Maybe _that’s_ why I’m always in my room, and never down here. I hate you all so fucking much, I’m not in the mood to get emotionally abused again. I’m so fucking sick of this. I’m so fucking sick of hearing these _jokes_ , because goddamn, they fucking hurt. I’m going upstairs, and if any of you try to talk to me tonight, expect to get screamed at. I’m fucking done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the catalyst of the Muke relationship- Luke's jealousy toward Calum- and yes, the entire band thing is going to start very soon, trust me. Anyway, thoughts on Luke's outburst to his parents and brothers? Was it justified, or should he have just dismissed their comments? Let me know, I'd appreciate it. Thanks for reading- hope you enjoyed.


	18. Chapter 17

“Ashton? Can I talk to you?”

I glance up, finding myself face to face with Harry. Holding up a finger, I put the lid on a customer’s drink and hand it to them with a polite smile, before going back to Harry. I pull my phone out of my pocket, typing into it.

_I’m working right now, and then I have to beat my best friend home, because he’s watching my brother and sister, and he’ll drop them off right after I get off work. I’m sorry._

“No, Ash, go take your break. You’ve been working for almost two hours, and if we need some help, we can force Niall or Liam behind the counter,” Louis says, coming up behind me with a packet of coffee in his hands. He leans in to my ear. “Harry’s a really good listener and person to vent to, just like Zayn. You can trust him.”

_Because he’s your boyfriend?_

Louis rolls his eyes. “I’ve known the twat for almost fifteen years, trust me on this.”

“Lou, come here and give me a kiss,” Harry orders. “I deserve it, since I can _hear_ you talking about me behind my back.”

Louis scoffs, putting down the packet of coffee, to lean over the counter and press his lips to Harry’s. When they finally pull away, I can see a sort of hunger in Louis’ eyes, and I hold back a chuckle. The shop doesn’t close for at least another three hours- he has to go that long without kissing Harry.

“Love you, Boobear,” Harry murmurs.

“Don’t call me that, you dick!” Louis shrieks. “You know I hate being called that!”

“You’re fine when your mum does it,” Niall pipes in, from where he’s sitting on one of the couches, buried in his phone. “Or your sisters.”

“Yes, because they’re my _mum and sisters_!” Louis retorts. “I have to give this packet to Zayn, before he sics Liam after me. I’ll be back, pricks.”

“So, what do you say, Ashton?” Harry asks. “I just want to talk, I’m not going to hurt you or anything like that.”

I nod shakily, taking off my apron and hanging it on a hook behind me. Walking around the counter, I join Harry on the other side, moments later being led to the other side of a shop. Harry picks a large couch to settle down on, sitting and crossing one leg over the other. I sit stiffly, a considerable few inches away from him. Despite Louis saying I can trust him- I won’t be sure, until he proves it to me.

“I just wanted to ask if you’re okay,” Harry says gently. “You don’t have to be scared of me- like I said before, I won’t hurt you. I know you trust Zayn and Louis- and I’ve known Lou for fifteen years, we met when he was 7, and I was 5. I’ve grown up with that twat. And we met Niall when he was 10, and I was 8, and Zayn and Liam joined us when Lou was 14 and I was 12. We’ve been friends for a long time- Zayn and Lou were just hesitant on the three of us meeting you, mainly because they didn’t want to overwhelm you. But they’re worried, Ashton. And they have reason to be- you’re horrendously thin, you look dead on your feet, and I can see the pain in your eyes.”

 _I…I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be worried, it’s not something they can control. I have to continue on like this- my sister and brother need me. I know they worry, but I have no other options._

Harry sighs. “They’ve told us about your home situation- not nearly everything, just that your mum is a drunken addict, and you’re left with the responsibility of caring for your thirteen year old sister and ten year old brother, correct?”

I nod. He glances at me. “Why don’t you call CPS, Ashton? This isn’t your responsibility- you’re what, 17? Your focus right now should be your friends, your grades, and maybe a couple parties here and there. You shouldn’t be burdened with the exhaustion it is- caring for a thirteen year old and a ten year old.”

_I can’t call CPS, Harry. I see where you’re going with that- but there is a high risk that CPS would look to separate the three of us. And my siblings rely on me- if we were separated, I don’t know what I would do. My mum is still reeling over the absence of my father- he left about ten years ago, right after my brother was born._

Harry rolls his eyes. “It’s been a fucking decade- I think it’s time she realize what’s happened and step up to the plate, considering her children. She needs to get off her drunken ass and actually show up at work, for fuck’s sakes, not leave you to make all the money. You should be working for money to buy _yourself_ things, Ashton, not for money to pay the bills and buy groceries. It isn’t right.”

I sigh, dropping my head to the ground. He’s right, and I know he is- but I can’t just leave Harry and Lauren destitute. If my mum won’t do shit, I need to take her place. If neither of us do anything, we’ll be nowhere. I want my brother and sister to grow up in a house, with good food, heat, things of the sort- not out on the streets, which is where we’d be, if I stopped working for them.

“Listen,” Harry mutters. “I just want you to know that Liam, Niall, and I would be happy to babysit the kids, like you have Zayn and Louis doing. We’d be happy to take them out to an amusement park or summat, give them a fun Saturday or Sunday, and give you the day off. Trust me, Ashton- though I haven’t known you very long, it’s obvious you deserve that. You need to take some time for yourself- because at this point, you look like you’re about to collapse. You look fucking awful- and I’m not trying to offend, but I’m worried. We all are.”

…

“Not so fucking fast, Ash.”

Zayn grabs my wrist and spins me around, forcing me to look him in the eye. “The five of us are coming home with you today. Ni, Li, and Haz wanna meet your siblings, and I think we could all use some cuddles and a movie night. If you want, you can even keep the kids home tomorrow and skip yourself, we can close the shop and relax. You need a break, Ash. You’re falling apart.”

There’s no use arguing with Zayn. It’s a fight I won’t win. So, I relent reluctantly. _Fine. I think the kids will be happy to meet Harry, Liam, and Niall._

“Yeah, Niall, Lou, and Liam can talk football with little Harry, and big Harry is just like me- something tells me he’ll get along fine, with Lauren.”

I smile and nod, as Louis comes up on my other side. He’s dragging Harry with him, the younger boy’s hand intertwined with his. Louis slings his free arm around my shoulders, and presses his lips to my forehead.

“You guys ready to go?”

“We’re waiting on Niall and Liam,” Zayn mutters. 

“We’re here, don’t call the fire squad,” Niall calls, jogging toward us, Liam following close behind. Liam migrates toward Zayn, pressing into his side. They intertwine hands, and Niall grins at me.

“Wanna be the single third-wheels together?” He offers a hand, and I look at him hesitantly, before taking the plunge and grabbing it. Niall realizes I’m obviously uncomfortable with hand-holding, so he presses close to me instead, leaning in to whisper in my ear.

“It’s okay- I’m not going to hurt you, just relax,” he murmurs, as we set off for my house. “You’re safe, I promise.”

…

“Uncle Z! Uncle Lou! Wait, who are they?” Harry asks loudly, as soon as we enter the house.

Louis grabs Harry, lifting him into his arms. “Well Haz, these are friends. Friends of mine and Uncle Z’s, yeah? But you wanna know something cool? This lad, the one with the curls, he has the same name as you.” Louis pulls his boyfriend over, smiling as young Harry’s face breaks out in a grin.

“You’re Harry?” He asks. 

Harry nods, holding out his own arms. “Wanna play with my hair?” He has my brother at that- Harry immediately goes into his arms, giggling as the older boy shifts him on his hip and allows him to play with the soft brown curls.

“Hi, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous,” Liam compliments Lauren gently, trying to ward away her wary gaze.

“He’s alright, babe. I’m dating the prick, I’d know!” Zayn calls.

Lauren’s eyes widen. “You’re dating Uncle Z?”

“I am, sweetheart.” Liam nods. “Your Uncle Z is amazing, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” she whispers. “He’s my favorite uncle.”

“I heard that!” Louis cries. “You have wounded me!” He clutches dramatically at his chest, looking at Lauren pitifully. 

“Stop it, Uncle Lou, you’re being a baby,” she chokes out, giggling. 

“A baby?” He echoes. “Would a baby be able to do this?”

He lunges for her, lifting her into the air and spinning her around. 

I go over to Michael, hugging him as a thank you. He grins at me, rubbing my back gently, before pulling back. “Don’t thank me- I know you’re about to. I love hanging out with H and Loz, they’re amazing. Babysitting them isn’t work, to me. So go, relax, and hang out with the guys, and stop worrying for tonight, yeah?”

I nod, and he pulls me in once more, squeezing me tightly to his chest, before smiling and grabbing his jacket, slipping out without being noticed.

Turning back to where Zayn, Liam, Louis, Niall, and Harry are playing with Harry and Lauren, I force a smile- the feeling of worthlessness washing over me like a tidal wave. I wish I could be as happy and open with my siblings as they are- I wish I wasn’t so scared to do that. I wish I wasn’t so scared to open my mouth- but I’m fucking terrified of being hurt again. 

I hate who I am- I’m a fucking disgrace- I wasn’t even enough to get my father to stay. And now, I can’t even be a proper big brother, just because I’m mute and refuse to speak. I very well could, if I wanted to- but no matter how much I do, I’m scared. And fear hurts so fucking much. Fear can change a person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you excited about the band thing- next chapter is one you're gonna love. And here's a tiny spoiler- it's basically all Muke. So, thoughts on this one? What do you guys think of Ashton's reluctancy to call CPS on his mother? Is it right or him, or not? Thank you for reading- hope you enjoyed.


	19. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's Muke- so I think you guys will like it. However, trigger warning for the beginning scene- it is the aftermath of Michael enduring another beating by his father- so please be careful when reading. If you want to skip it- skip down to 'The doorbell makes me cringe'. Enjoy.

Thinking I was safe from the beatings was fucking stupid of me.

My father ambushed me as soon as I got back from Ashton’s house, kicking me in the stomach and chest enough times to most likely break ribs. My face is bruised again, and I can barely walk- I’m reduced to limping like an old person. Everything hurts, and I can’t move. I’m wheezing, struggling to get breaths from the pain in my stomach.

I bring my knees up to my chest, hugging them to me, as silent tears streak down my cheeks. I just don’t understand why this is fucking necessary. What have I done- for him to continue to beat me? My mum knows nothing- he threatened to go after Ashton, if I breathed a word to her. If he threatened to kill me, I would’ve let him- but he put Ashton in danger, and I can’t risk Ashton’s life. 

It may seem like I’m much closer to Calum- but Ashton is also special to me. He’s broken- that’s obvious, but I’ve known him for almost four years, and he really is the sweetest person ever. He’s kind, intelligent, and he works his fucking ass off. He’s trying his best to raise his siblings- and he hasn’t complained about having to do it _once_. Sure, he expresses that he’s exhausted a lot- but he’s never complained about what he has to do- it seems like me, Louis, and Zayn are doing more of the complaining about Ashton’s responsibilities, than he is. 

Another tear streaks down my cheek, as I force myself to my feet, wincing painfully. I grab hold of the railing, and begin to slowly make my way upstairs- intending to go to bed and stay there until I feel like I’m ready to move. Everything hurts, my heart hurts, my body hurts, my mind is fucking murdering me- and quite fucking honestly, I’m ready to leave this fucking world.

Finally limping into my room, I collapse on the bed, doing my best to get under the covers, before slamming a pillow over my head, and just letting the tears fall. My face is probably red and blotchy and disgusting- but it isn’t like anyone is seeing me. My father stormed out, most likely going to a bar to get completely drunk off his ass- which I’m glad about. I don’t want him in this house. I don’t want that bastard anywhere near me. 

Everything just…it’s so fucking hard. I hate living like this. I hate being beaten by my own father, cutting myself, thinking about suicide- I hate all of it. I hate my life. I’m only staying because it’d break Calum and Ashton, if I ended it. Both of them are suicidal- though I think Calum is getting better, considering the whole diagnosis. 

I clench my eyes shut, the pain in my chest only escalating. My chest is tight, and tears are still streaming down my cheeks in rivulets. My stomach is rolling, flip-flopping and causing nausea to erupt in my body. I feel like fucking shit- I don’t understand this at all. Who gets pleasure in hitting their own flesh and blood? What kind of sick person _is_ my father? 

I guess I’m stuck in this fucking hellhole for over two years- until I graduate. If I end up graduating, I’m going to move as far away from him as I can _get_. Maybe I’ll even go to America- that’s way too far for him to find me. This is only _if_ I make it to graduation. At this rate, I doubt I will. I’m going to try my best- but eventually, the pain will consume me, and I’ll die. 

Hopefully it won’t break Ashton and Calum too badly. 

…

The doorbell makes me cringe.

I doubt it’s my father- but the possibility is still there. If I don’t go downstairs and open the door, I’m fucked. If it _is_ him, I’m gonna be beaten senseless, if I don’t go down there. Everything still hurts- and it’s hell to move, but I clench my teeth and bear it. Stumbling down the stairs, I arrive at the door, gasping in pain. 

I pull it open, and just stare. No fucking way. I did not just drag my pained body out of bed, only to see Luke on my porch, looking at me sheepishly. 

“What the fuck do you want? How did you find my house?” I grumble.

“Calum gave me your address. You weren’t at school today- I wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

I snort, chuckling humorlessly. “For you to do that, that’d mean you would actually have to care about me, Hemmings.”

“I do care about you.” Luke ignores my use of his last name, instead opting to glance me over. “You’re favoring your right foot, and your hand is draped around your ribcage. What happened?”

“When did you become Doctor Hemmings?” I mutter back. “I’m fine. Go home. I’m not in the mood to talk to you.”

“I don’t care,” Luke retorts, pushing past me, and closing the door behind him. “You’re obviously not okay, and I’m worried about you. As your _friend_. I didn’t know that was a goddamn crime. I also came over, because I wanted to ask you something.”

I sigh. “Fine. But don’t expect me to tell you my goddamn life story. You’re not some fucking therapist.”

“Never intended on being one,” Luke replies. “Do you need help going upstairs, or are you alright?”

“It’s my goddamn house, I think I can get up the fucking stairs by myself,” I snap, trying to make my limp as slight as possible, as I lead him up to my room.

…

“What’s going on, Michael? Why are you so insistent on shutting me out? What’s your goddamn problem with me?” Luke asks.

I shake my head, looking at my bedspread, picking at the loose fibers with my fingers. “I don’t like you.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “Yes, we’ve established that. I wanna know why you hate me so fucking much. What did I fuck up, Michael? Tell me, so I can try and fix it. I want to be your friend. I want to be someone you can lean on, someone you can talk to- but I can’t be any of that, if you don’t tell me what your problem is with me, and fucking _let me in_.”

“I don’t have to have a problem with you, to not like you. I can hate a person without a reason for it,” I mutter. 

“You probably can. But I’ve given you no reason to even dislike me- there’s nothing I’ve done, except be friends with Ca- oh…” Luke’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re afraid you’re going to lose Calum to me, aren’t you? You think I stole him from you, don’t you?”

I nod reluctantly. “It’s not that I hate your guts- like you said, you’ve given me no reason to hate you. It’s just…Calum is basically all I have. I have two friends- Calum is one of them. And losing him would be like losing a part of myself. I’m just scared he’ll find you so much better than me, because you’re not fucked up in every way possible, like I am. You’re normal, and he needs someone normal to keep him sane. He doesn’t need someone as equally fucked up as he is.”

Luke sighs. “Mikey, I may not _look_ fucked up, but trust me, I am. I’m more fucked up than you think- there’s a lot of shit you don’t know about me- things I’d rather not tell you right now, but just know that I’m not as put together as you think. I’m just a really good actor. And trust me, I will beat Calum’s ass if he starts pulling away from you, to get closer to me. I know what you guys have is special- I’d be a fucking dick to ruin that. So, don’t worry. I’m here, but I’m not trying to take your place in Calum’s life.”

I don’t respond- I don’t know what he wants me to say. I don’t even know how to react to something like that- how is someone _supposed_ to react to something like that? 

“But Mikey, what I really wanted to talk to you about, is…well, I kinda sing and post covers on YouTube, and my dream is becoming a professional musician. I don’t want to do that by myself, so…I just wanted ask- do you maybe wanna consider starting a band with me?”

I stare at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry, it was stupid, I shouldn’t have bothered…” Luke mutters, avoiding my eyes.

I grab his wrist. “No, Luke, I was just surprised. Didn’t think you were the type to do something like that. But I’d be cool with doing something like that- I’m not singing, though. I’ll play lead guitar, you can sing.”

“That’s perfect.” Luke smiles at me. “But a bassist and drummer would complete things…”

“Calum plays bass,” I offer. “And I know someone who could possibly be our drummer, but I’ll have to talk to him about it. His home situation is kinda tough right now- I don’t know if he’ll have the time. But definitely talk to Calum, he’s a great singer too- he can sing with you. And his bass skills are fucking amazing, but the kid can’t play a guitar.”

Luke laughs. “I have a feeling… This is the start of something, isn’t it?”


	20. Chapter 19

My father wasn’t exactly as happy as I was about my diagnosis.

In his eyes, that just confirms his words- confirms that he has a fucked up son. I’m such a fucking disgrace, and now I have a learning disability to prove it. If I recall correctly, his exact words were- ‘you’ll never be good enough for me, especially not with that damn learning disability, you’re a waste of a child’. And yet he says he loves me and wants the best of me. I find that hard to believe.

Mali was pissed. She argued with him for hours, defending me as much as she could, and trying to get through his goddamn thick skull. He had none of it- threatening to stop paying her college tuition, if she didn’t shut up. She had no choice but to let him win the argument- apologizing profusely to me afterward, completely struck with guilt. It’s not her fault- that threat was a really low move.

Needless to say, my stomach is littered with fresh cuts- I had no mercy, slashing relentlessly at the soft patches of skin, until red blurred my vision, and dizziness overcame me. At that point, I knew I had to stop the bleeding and clean up, even though I really wanted to let myself bleed out. My father probably wouldn’t care- and my mother’s too much of a damn pushover to oppose him. 

I’m alone, and being alone hurts so fucking much. Mali is on my side, but she has to go back to school soon- dad will kill her, if she doesn’t listen to him. She needs to go back, as much as she doesn’t want to- and then I’ll be alone. Then, I’ll be alone with a dick for a father, a pushover for a mother, with no one to defend me. 

Michael can’t stick up for me- my father will go straight to his, and Michael’s father is a very violent person with a ton of anger management issues. His son will definitely receive the brunt of that anger, if my father tells him anything. I’m basically fucked- and I’m hating myself for thinking it would get better. Goddamn fool, I was. Did I really think I’d be free from the shit my father gives me? If so, what the hell was I on? 

I’m just gonna keep slashing at my stomach, trying not to go too deep, but probably doing it accidentally. I’m not going to make any more promises to anyone- if I cut too deep, I cut too deep. I die, and no one would even miss me. I doubt anyone would care. Michael has other friends, and Luke has the entire football team- they can easily replace me. And I have no one else. 

I guess I should stop talking about this now- it’s depressing and shitty and I know it’s not a good subject to linger on. My ankle is worse than I thought- we finally went to a doctor, because the pain just was refusing to subside, and found out that I tore some ligaments- which is why it hurts so much. The tearing must’ve been the pops I heard, as I fell on it. Either way, I’m off my foot for another 3 weeks, and damn, that’s gonna be fucking hell. Crutches hurt- my underarms are sore as fuck, and I hate how painful it is. 

I just…I’m living in a world of pain right now- and it hasn’t shown any signs of getting better. 

…

“Cal! I wanted to ask you something!” 

Luke jogs up to me, still dressed in his football uniform. Practice starts soon, and obviously, I’m out for the rest of the season. He’s gonna be late, if he doesn’t hurry up, so I don’t know why he decided that now would be the best time to talk to me. 

“You’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry, Lucas,” I reply. “And you know what coach does, if we’re late.”

Luke shakes his head. “I asked already, he said I have ten minutes. But I really wanted to ask you about something, and I want you to keep an open mind and hear me out, before you say no, okay? Please?”

“Hold on,” I mutter. “Let me sit down, my foot hurts.” I limp over to one of the benches, sitting down carefully, and leaning my crutches against the side. Luke sits down beside me, turning to face me. 

“Okay, so this is the thing,” Luke says. “I went to Mikey’s house yesterday, y’know, to check on him and make sure he’s okay, since he wasn’t at school.”

“And you’re still alive?” I snort.

Luke rolls his eyes. “He isn’t that much of a dick to me, Cal. But anyway, I told him about something I’ve been thinking about for a while. Do you remember how I told you that my dream is to be a musician?” 

I nod. “Yeah, you said you were posting covers on YouTube, or something?”

“Yep. And I still really want to be a musician, but I don’t want to do it alone. Something tells me that pursuing a solo career will be boring, lonely, and just flat-out unenjoyable. I asked Michael if he’d join me, and he said yes- he agreed to my idea of starting a band. He said that he won’t sing, but he’ll play lead guitar, and I can sing the lead vocals. He also said that you’re an amazing bassist, with a hell of a lot of talent- and that you can sing. So…do you wanna maybe join us?”

I stare at him, my mind racing. He wants me to be in a band with him and Michael? He wants me? “Uh…why would you want me to be in the band? I’m sure you can find a much better bassist, if you look hard enough…”

“Cut that out,” Luke mutters. “Michael said you’re amazing, and I know Michael might be an asshole sometimes, but he’s honest. He doesn’t lie. If he said you’re an amazing bassist, he was telling the truth- I trust him. I really want you to do this, Cal, it’ll be fun, but you don’t have to say yes. Think about it, yeah? Give me your answer in a couple of days?”

…

“Why would you tell him I’m a good bassist and I can sing, Mikey?” 

Mikey threads a hand through my hair, sighing. “Because I believe it. You have talent, Calum. And you need to use it- you’re not meant to be some academic genius- you have never been meant to be that. You’re a talented bassist, and you can fucking sing. Use that. It’s worth a lot, lemme tell you.”

“I’m not that good, Mikey. There are people out there, who are so much better. And plus, according to my dad, singing isn’t a real career, and it’s very improbable that we’ll even make it big, so what’s the point?”

“Is that your reasoning, or your father’s?” Michael asks sternly. 

My silence is his answer. He presses his lips to my forehead, shifting underneath me. “That’s my point, Cal. Your father was born into a generation where every kid’s parents chose what they’d be, and they’d have to stick with it, no matter what. This generation is different- I’m telling you, we can do this. There’s no harm in trying. We’re still sophomores in high school- what the hell have we got to lose?”

“It’s a waste of valuable time, according to my dad.”

“Who the fuck cares what your dick of a father thinks?!” Michael cries. “Am I talking to you, or am I talking to him? Your father does not control you, Calum. He may be your dad, but once you turn 18, it’s up to you, what you want to do with your life. He can hope and pray and preach his views on to you, as much as he damn wants, but in the end- it is your choice. And if you want to be a musician- if you want this as much as Luke and I do, you’ll say a big ‘fuck you’ to your father, and go with your heart.”

“Mikey, I’m just…I’m scared, okay? I don’t want him to hate me any more than he already does.”

“Why? What will him not hating you do for you? There is nothing you can do, to change his opinion of you. It has to be done on its own, and he’s the only person who can change his opinion. You’ve done all you can do- it’s time to stop thinking about what that bastard wants, and think about what you want. In the end, he’s going to die before you, way before you, and you’ll be left to do whatever you want. So, you can either do something you hate, just because he wants you to- or you can pick your own happiness. And who fucking knows, Cal? Who knows, maybe we will make it big. Maybe this’ll turn into something amazing. We’ll never find out, if we don’t try.”

“I guess…I guess you’re right, Mikey. That does kinda make sense, I just…I’m nervous…”

“Don’t be. You’re amazing- and once you show Luke your bass skills, he’ll think that too. You need to stop doubting yourself- you are a fucking talented bassist and singer, start accepting it.”

“I’ll try my best…” I rest my head on his chest, nuzzling against him. I feel him curse under his breath, my curiosity wandering. Is something wrong with him? I don’t have time to contemplate, forced to answer his next question.

“So, are you in?”

“I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Calum's in, Michael's in, now they just need a drummer...hm... Thanks for reading- I hope you enjoyed.


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...you guys may not like me very much at the end of this chapter, I'm sorry in advance.

Calum’s in, Michael’s in- this is turning out quite nicely. I didn’t think it would work out as well as it did, but it has, and now I’m so much more excited about this. This could actually work out- we could actually make it big- and the mere thought excites me. I don’t know whether anything like that will happen, and I fucking _doubt_ it would- but there’s always hope, and there is always a chance. 

Things are starting to look up- my parents and brothers have been avoiding me, ever since I blew up at them. Silence may be torture for some- but to me, it is the definition of peace. Being able to listen to my music without anyone interrupting me or bothering me makes my life so much more relaxed- music has that effect on me, and I’m glad I’m getting to experience it again. 

I’ve missed being happy- and I still don’t think I’m happy, considering I don’t eat anymore, and I really fucking hate myself, but…I’m on the road to recovery, and that’s all that matters. I’m trying to get better- in the mental aspect. I’m still fucking huge- I still need to lose weight, but I’m trying to get into a different mindset.

My phone beeps, and I glance at it. 

_From: Mikey_

_Cal said he’s free after school today- do you have practice? If not, we can start talking about this band thing…only thing is, Calum won’t be able to stand and play and sing for a while, he’ll have to sit, his ankle is still hella painful._

I text back immediately, still in semi-shock that Michael is actually talking to me. He doesn’t hate me as much as he used to- which I guess is some sort of plus. He actually acts as if I’m in the room when he sees me, and he acknowledges me in the hallway with a nod or a small smile. It’s nothing huge, but it is definitely progress- I’m glad he’s making the effort. I want to be friends with him. 

_To: Mikey_

_That’s fine, no worries. And yeah, I can ditch practice today, coach won’t care. So, wanna meet at my house? We can rehearse in my basement or garage, I’ll kick my parents and brothers out, so it’ll just be us._

I don’t know what this weird-ass feeling I have toward Michael is. I don’t think it’s love- you can’t fall for someone that quickly, and despite how amazing Michael is, I don’t think I’m actually in love with him. I may like him more than a friend- but I’m not in love with him, so to speak. I just wonder…is there a thing between him and Calum? 

It doesn’t seem like there is, but they’re so close- I could be misinterpreting things, and that’ll definitely stir up a lot of feelings and cause a lot of damage. I don’t want to make any sort of move on Michael, until I know for sure that Calum is his brother, not his boyfriend. There’s a difference, obviously, but Michael and Calum have a special relationship- the dynamic between them is one I’ve never seen between two people. 

My phone vibrates again, and I glance down at the screen, forgetting about my thoughts momentarily. 

_From: Mikey_

_Sounds good. See you at school? By the way, be careful around Calum for the next couple of days…he’s kinda going through stuff, so if he snaps at you, he doesn’t mean it, he’s just having a shitty-ass time at home, and he might take his anger out on us accidentally._

Now I’m worried- Calum does seem like he has some problems at home- I hear him talking to Michael about his father all the time, and it confuses me. Is his father abusive? Or are his parents getting divorced, something like that? It’s too early for him to tell me- but I’ll listen when he does decide to. I want to be there for him like Michael is. I want to help him, because he seems like he desperately needs someone right now, and I don’t mind being there for him. I prefer putting others’ needs before my own. I don’t like worrying about myself- I don’t really care about myself, but if others are okay, I’m good. 

…

“Can I sit with you guys, or…?”

I shift my backpack on my shoulder, glancing at Michael and Calum nervously. This is where my anxiety kicks in, and my heart starts to race- because what if they say no? What if they tell me to go fuck myself or get lost or something? What if they hate me secretly, and they’re just pretending to be my friends? It’s a whole lot of what-ifs, and until I get an answer, my mind will keep adding new questions to the table. 

“Of course, Lucas,” Calum says, his voice slightly hoarse. His eyes are red and bloodshot- making me worry even more. He’s leaning against Michael, the older boy’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. 

I put my backpack down, and sit down in an empty seat, just glancing at the table, not wanting to say something in fear of it being stupid. I hate awkward silences like this- I never know what to say, and I never want to interrupt anything, so I’m left sitting there and looking like the fucking idiot I am. 

“You aren’t eating?” Michael asks, pulling a cookie from the packet in front of him. I can see pain in his eyes, as he forces himself to take a bite of it, chew, and swallow- and that almost makes me think he has a problem with how he looks, just like me. Maybe we’re more alike than I thought. 

“I had a big breakfast,” I lie. I did eat- I just ate a granola bar, and ran out the door. That’s probably all I’ll eat today, if you don’t count the excessive amounts of water that I drink. I think I’m over-excessive on how much H2O I consume, but water is good for you, isn’t it? I’m not doing my body any harm. 

Michael nods, looking me over. I squirm under his gaze, feeling uncomfortable- why is he looking at me? Doesn’t he have Calum to worry about? Why must he look at me? “S-So, the band thing. You guys are coming over today, right? I have an extra guitar, Mikey, but Cal, you gotta bring your bass.”

“Way ahead of you, Lucas.” Calum smiles weakly at me. “It’s already in the music room, I just have to grab it at the end of the day, so we can go straight to your house, once school gets out.”

“Oh, that’s perfect.” I nod. “Good idea, guys.”

Calum just turns his head back into Michael’s shoulder, and I can hear a muffled sob shake him. Michael sighs, rubbing his back, and directs his next words to me. “He’s alright, it’s just that his father’s being a dick. He’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

…

“Okay, so how do we start all of this?”

“Well…I do post covers on youtube, and I was thinking we could do that as a band? Maybe cover some of our favorite songs, and just keep posting them, while we write some original shit…I’m not sure…” I reply.

“We need a drummer,” Calum mutters. “Any ideas? I know no one who plays the fucking drums, so we’re kinda out of luck.”

Michael shakes his head. “One of my friends does. He’s really good- his skills are fucking amazing. I think he could be our drummer, but he needs to agree first. I don’t want to impose it on him- his home life is kinda shitty right now, and I don’t want to make anything any worse for him. He just needs to relax right now, and get better himself.”

“Is it that senior I saw you with, a couple weeks ago?” I ask, not able to help myself. 

“You’re friends with a _senior_?” Calum asks in disbelief. “How come you’ve never told me?”

“Because it isn’t important,” Michael mutters. “Luke, thanks for spying on me, you dick. But yes- I am friends with a senior, and a fucking amazing drummer, at that. But he needs time, he doesn’t like new people, and he definitely doesn’t like being overwhelmed. I’ll try and introduce the idea to him, get him used to it, and then we’ll talk about him being our drummer. We are not rushing into anything. He isn’t ready for that, and I don’t want to pressure him.”

“You talk about him like he’s made of glass, like he’s about to break,” Calum observes. 

“He’s fucking fragile, Calum. He will break, if I don’t take care of him- make sure he’s alright. Things are fucking shit for his family right now- he needs security, closure, shit like that- he doesn’t need to be bombarded by you two, who want him in this band. He doesn’t have time for things like that, I don’t even think…he works a lot, and he has a lot of responsibility- in terms of his brother and sister. It’s just…hard for him, right now, okay? So don’t expect him to show up at the next band practice, or some shit like that.”

“Sounds like you two are great friends, then,” Calum mumbles, staring at his feet. 

“Goddammit, no. Cal, no, he’s not going to replace you, he’s not going to take me away from you. I love you, and I will always be here for you- I will always be your brother. Stop fucking worrying, because I will never leave you.”

“How do I know you won’t find him better? I doubt he’s as fucked up as I am. I doubt he has so many problems, I doubt he fucking cuts himself!” Calum cries. He grabs his crutches, wincing as he gets to his feet hurriedly, and swings himself out of the room as fast as he can. 

Michael glares at me. “Thanks a fucking lot!” And then he rushes from the room, following Calum’s tracks, and calling his name.


	22. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...trigger warnings for the end of the chapter- be careful. It may not make much sense now, but next chapter, it will. So just bear with me, alright? Enjoy.

“Ashton!” 

I glance over at Michael, tilting my head and waiting for him to catch up. He jogs up to me, grabbing my arm to steady himself. “I wanna talk to you about something, can we go to the courtyard, for study hall?”

I nod, not wanting to pull out my phone in the crowded hallway. Michael smiles at me. “Sweet, we’ll go to that alcove where teachers can’t find us, you know what I’m talking about, right?”

I nod again, changing direction to walk out of the courtyard doors, and outside. Michael follows me, as I lead him to the special spot, an alcove covered with leaves- completely sheltered from the teachers. It’s a great place to hide, if you’re looking to ditch class, because no teacher has ever found it. I don’t think many students know about it either, which makes it even better. 

_What’s up?_ I hold my phone out to him, as I drop my backpack against the brick wall, making my way over to the tree, to sit down. Michael sits down next to me, pressing his back against the trunk of the tree, and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He pulls me against him, forcing me to rest my head on his shoulder, and starts to rub my shoulders gently. 

_Mikey, what’s going on…?_ I’m suspicious now- he usually doesn’t withhold information from me, unless it’s something he’s scared to tell me- which would be odd. He’s never been known to try and hide _anything_ from me. And I doubt he’s about to start. 

“Ash, you know how you have that drum set in your basement? The one that’s just sitting there and collecting dust, because you haven’t touched it in weeks?”

I know what this is about- at least I think I do. Squirming away- or at least trying to move away from him, I shake my head, typing rapidly. _No, Mikey. Don’t get into that. I know that I should be playing more, but I don’t have the time. It isn’t my fault- I just don’t have the time, or the energy. After Lauren and Harry finish their work, I do a half-ass job on my own, and then make dinner. By that time, I’m too exhausted to do anything, so I just collapse in bed. I don’t have time._

Michael sighs. “Ash, you know that you can ask Liam, Niall, or Harry to help watch the kids. I asked Lou- he said that Liam and Harry have classes Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, while Niall only has them Tuesday and Thursday. And their classes are in the morning, and the ones in the afternoon finish before our school gets out. Why don’t you take them up on their offer? You could really use the help, babe…”

_I don’t want to have to do that to them- they shouldn’t be charged with the responsibility of taking care of my siblings. And if I did let them, I’d feel like I’d have to pay them for their work- and I just can’t afford that right now. I can’t._

Michael rolls his eyes. “You know as well as I do that they’d never take your money. They offered because they _wanted_ to, not because they’re looking for a way to earn quick cash. But even so- that wasn’t the point I was trying to make. I wanted to ask- me, and a couple friends are thinking of starting a band. I’m going to be playing lead guitar, one of my friends is going to play bass, and the other is going to sing and play rhythm guitar. We need a drummer- that’s where you come in. You don’t have to come to practices immediately- but we could really use the help, especially since you’re amazing with the drums.”

_Mikey…I don’t know…I’m not good with new people, and they’re sophomores…it’ll be weird…_

I voice my concerns easily- I can’t hide anything from him, he’ll end up finding out some way or another. It’s better to tell him straight out. 

“That doesn’t matter, Ash. They’ll love you- what’s not to love? You’re sweet, funny, kind, and you know just what to say. You’re my rock, Ash. I love you. And to be honest- I think they’ll love you too…”

 _I’m not sure, Mikey…I’ll think about it, okay? Don’t expect an answer really soon, I’m working double time at the coffee shop, and I have some things to do in the next few days, but I’ll see whether it’ll fit into my schedule, before I give you an answer._

Michael nods, leaning in to press his lips against my forehead. “That’s all I’m asking, Ash. Just think about it.”

…

“Ash, can you grab some more coffee from the shelves outside?” Zayn asks, not looking up at me. 

I nod, abandoning what I’m doing, and walking out of the back room, around the counter, until I come to the shelf of coffee packets. I grab two packets of plain-flavoured coffee, but when I stand, my eyes widen. 

His eyes are just as beady as I remember them, staring at me with pure venom. There’s an evil glint in his gaze, almost a hunger. He opens his mouth to speak, but I’m already paralyzed by fear. My heart is racing, and I can feel a cold sweat beginning to wash over me, like I’ve jut been fully drenched in a bucket of ice cold water. I’m shaking, the speed of my racing heart alarming me. 

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?!” 

I can barely move- I can’t tear my gaze away from the man in front of me, not even when Louis comes up to us, pulling me toward him and glaring daggers at the man. 

“What the _fuck_ are you here for?!” He repeats, his voice only growing progressively louder, as he finishes his sentence. “You are _not_ welcome here. Get the _fuck_ out of my shop!”

“Aw, don’t be rude, I was just coming in for a cup of coffee,” he purrs, reaching out for me. I shrink away, my mouth opening in a silent scream. Terrified, I press as close as possible to Louis, trying to hide myself in his body. 

“Ash, where’s the- oh my fucking god, you fucking bastard!” Zayn’s voice is loud- rage-filled and cold as hell. He stomps over to us, shouldering Louis aside, to come face to face with the predator. 

“Lou, take him into the back room and calm him down. I’ll handle this fucking _cunt_ ,” Zayn sneers, his voice dripping with venom. Louis nods, wrapping his other arm around me, and walking me into the back room.

He sits me down on one of the benches, dropping to his knees in front of me, and forcing me to look at him. “Ash, come on, it’s just me. It’s Louis. He can’t hurt you again, I promise. He will never _touch_ you again- I swear on my life, Zayn and I will _die_ before we let that happen. You’re perfectly safe, baby. Relax, calm down. You’re perfectly alright.”

Tears burn in my eyes, slipping rapidly down my cheeks. “Oh, babe…” Louis sighs, reaching up to pull me into his arms. “Shhhhh, it’s okay, I know. Relax, calm down baby, shhh. I’ve got you, Lou’s got you, you’re fine, yeah? You are perfectly fine. You’re okay, baby. So okay.”

I can hear the door open again, and muffled voices invade my ears, but I’m in no state to look up and see who it is. Crying harder, I just bury my face further into Louis’ neck, feeling another pair of arms wrap around us. Knowing it’s Zayn, I drag him slightly closer, just wanting security. I need a sanctuary. 

…

“How’re you feeling, Ash?”

Louis hands me a glass of water, grabbing my free hand and bringing it up to his lips. “Zayn’s in the kitchen, you’re getting a full Indian style feast tonight, courtesy of his mum’s recipes.”

I try to protest, but he shushes me, shaking his head firmly. “Do not even start. What you just went through was nothing short of traumatizing- let us take care of you. Liam and Niall went to get Loz and Haz, and Harry’s on his way over here with some movies and shit. Let us help you- you’re off-duty for the rest of the night.”

Just as he concludes his mini-speech, the front door bangs open. Niall and Liam lead my siblings in. Harry is perched on Niall’s shoulders, a smile evident on his face. Lauren is pressed into Liam’s side, talking animatedly to him in an excited voice. He brings her into his chest, and she giggles, hugging him tightly. 

“Ashy!” Harry calls. “Uncle Li and Uncle Ni said you weren’t feeling well, are you okay, Ashy?”

Niall lets him down, and he rushes over to me, jumping onto my chest, and pressing kisses to my cheeks. I grin, tickling him and hugging him tightly. “Love you, Ashy,” Harry murmurs, nuzzling his head into my chest. 

I grin, rubbing his back, and letting him just rest on my chest. I’d kill to be able to reciprocate his love- but for now, I’m just gonna focus on recovering from that ordeal.

Like Zayn’s said, small victories. Small victories will eventually lead to something a lot bigger.


	23. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Heavy_ trigger warnings at the end of this chapter- be very careful- what Zayn tells Michael is in _no_ way pretty- so please, if rape triggers you, skip that part entirely. 
> 
> Additionally- you guys want more Muke and Cashton, I know that. I have a plan for how to incorporate that into the story. However- I do need to add in a completely uncanon event- that will definitely shake things for the boys. Be mindful of that, as the chapters come. 
> 
> That's all, enjoy the chapter.

_You treat me just like, another stranger…_

Paramore’s Ignorance blasts in my ears, as I walk toward Calum’s house. My father sure as hell won’t drive me anywhere, and I really need to talk to Calum. I don’t know how he feels about the entire Ashton thing- I told him that Ashton could never replace him, but he doesn’t seem to believe me. I don’t think he has faith in the fact that he’s my best friend- and there will never be another person to challenge him for that position in my life. Never.

I climb up the steps, onto his porch, and knock on the door a couple times. I’m the only person who doesn’t ring the doorbell, so Calum will know it’s me. Sure enough, the door swings open moments later, and Calum himself stands before me. He’s leaning heavily on his crutches, and his face is red- blotchy and streaked with tears. Something happened. Something bad.

“Cal, what the hell happened? Why are you crying?” I ask immediately, reaching into my pocket to turn off my music. 

Calum swallows hard. “My dad just…screamed at me. Had another panic attack. M’sorry, don’t be mad…”

“Why the _hell_ would I be mad at _you_?” I ask in disbelief, stepping into the house, and shutting the door behind me. “I’m pissed at your bastard of a father. Where’s Mali?”

“Out,” he mutters. “She went to the mall with her friends- that’s why he chose now to start screaming. Without Mali here to defend me, I’m vulnerable. I can’t defend myself- that’ll just make it worse, and an argument with him is one I will never win.”

“That fucking cunt,” I growl. “Sorry, I just…I don’t understand how he isn’t capable of understanding that you have a fucking _learning disability_ , and your shitty grades in school are not your fault.”

Calum shakes his head. “I should’ve…should’ve tried harder…gotten help when I really thought something was wrong…”

“You didn’t know, and you were scared, Calum. It’s okay to be scare- wait, why is your foot bleeding?!”

There are a few drops of blood on the wooden flooring, and the bottom of the ace wrap around his ankle is red. My eyes widen, seeing it, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. Calum sighs. “It’s just blistering…fell on it earlier. My crutches caught in a rug, and I fell down again…”

“Cal…” I sigh, shaking my head and bringing him into a hug. I let him drop his crutches, hugging him as close as possible to ensure that he doesn’t fall. “Let’s go upstairs, yeah? You need to relax- you’re a fucking mess.”

Calum chuckles humorlessly, as I reach down and grab his crutches, handing them to him. “Thanks, I take pride in it.”

…

“Do I need to do anything to your ankle, or…?”

Calum shakes his head, limping over to the bed and collapsing onto it. “No. Mum already took care of the blisters, it just fucking kills.”

“I’m sorry,” I sigh, getting onto the bed with him, and pulling him into my arms. “I’m sorry for everything- sorry you have to go through this shit.”

He smiles weakly. “S’okay, Mikey. Everything’s gonna be good soon. When’s the next band practice?”

“Tomorrow afternoon…considering we got nothing done at the first one…” I mumble, looking down at his comforter. 

Calum rolls his eyes. “Because I was an overreacting baby. Ashton isn’t going to replace me…is he?”

I shake my head vigorously. “Never, Cal. He just…I’ve known him for a while now, and he’s helped me through some times, and I’ve done the same for him. He needs me right now- I can’t abandon him. And when you and Luke meet him, it’ll be amazing. He’s really sweet and kind- the best person to talk to, when you have a problem. He’ll listen and hold you- it’s just really nice.”

Calum nods, shifting against me. “When can we meet him?”

“I don’t know…” I mutter. “He works double time at the coffee shop- you know the one that Zayn Malik and Louis Tomlinson own?” Calum gives a soft affirmative. “Yeah, he works there. He works a lot, and he has to take care of his brother and sister, they’re thirteen and ten, so they rely on him for a lot.”

“Doesn’t his mum do that?” Calum wonders. He has no idea about Ashton’s living situation- and I consider that a blessing. Ashton doesn’t want people knowing, he doesn’t want there to be any chance of the CPS knocking on their door- because he is fucking terrified of being separated from his brother and sister. He’s fucking scared- and he has the right to be- but I really wish he’d do something about his goddamn mother, and stop letting her responsibilities become his. That’s definitely going to backfire on him soon- and I know that the result will not be pretty. 

I scoff. “I fucking _wish_. Maybe then, he wouldn’t look like he’s gonna pass out in a matter of fucking seconds.”

…

“Michael? Can I talk to you real quick?”

I glance up, my eyes widening. “Zayn? Why would you want to talk to me? Unless…is Ashton okay? Did something happen?”

Zayn beckons me over to a bench outside of the school, and once we both sit down, he starts to speak. “Yeah, something did happen, actually. I don’t think Ashton’s told you this…I don’t think anyone, aside from Louis and myself know…but I feel like you should know, maybe it will help you to understand why he’s so closed off, why he doesn’t talk anymore- that sort of thing. Something happened- an incident that scarred him, and that is why he doesn’t talk anymore.”

I don’t know how to respond to that- I mean, how can I even respond to something like that? I’m more worried for Ash now, than ever, wheels turning in my mind. My stomach is churning, and I’m not sure what the hell Zayn is about to tell me- but I know that it cannot be pretty. 

“Just…he doesn’t know I’m about to tell you this, and he will be pissed once he finds out, but he’s kept it hidden for long enough. It’s time you know- maybe you can help us break him out of his shell. He’s spiraling downward, Michael. Nearing his breaking point.” 

I nod, waiting for him to continue. It’s as if I can’t say anything, until I wait for him to tell me what it is that has scarred Ashton for life.

Zayn takes a deep breath. “Michael, Ashton was raped.”

…

All I can do is stare at him in shock. My stomach is rolling, nausea overcoming me and making me absolutely dizzy. I braced myself for the worst- but I _never_ …not in a million years…I never anticipated something like this. I can’t even believe it- at first, I thought he was lying, and damn, I fucking hoped he was.

“It was about eight months ago, back in June, right after school let out for you guys. He was walking home from work, and his assaulter just grabbed him, and did…that.” Zayn shivers at the thought, continuing on with a grim look in his dark eyes. “He was never the same after that. Louis and I found him on the side of the road, covered in blood, crying. His pants were gone, and his shirt was ripped. He screamed when either of us got too close- and that’s when we knew what had happened.”

Zayn sighs heavily, staring at his lap. “We took him to get a rape kit done- we made him go, even though he protested. He had no STDs, which was a huge relief- that would be hell, if he did have one. But he was never the same after that. He believed- and still does believe- that he is dirty, disgusting, and a complete waste of a human being. He doesn’t think anyone could ever love him- now that he’s been touched by a stranger. That’s why he stopped talking- he believes that his words mean nothing anymore, that he doesn’t deserve to say anything. He blames himself for this, despite me and Lou telling him multiple times, that it never has been, and never will be his fault.”

“The reason…the reason I’m telling you all of this…” Zayn mutters. “His assaulter showed up at the shop yesterday, and he lost it. He had such a bad panic attack, and he’s still very shaken from it- that’s why he wasn’t at school today. We’re having our friends- Niall, Liam, and Harry- stay at his house and keep an eye on him, along with tend to Harry and Lauren, because he is in no state to do that right now.”

“Oh my…oh my fucking _god_ …” I whisper. “I don’t know what to say…”

“I didn’t expect you to know…no one knows what to say after a tragedy like this, huh?” Zayn replies. “Just…when he does come back to school- which I don’t know when it’ll be- keep an eye on him, okay? Make sure he’s not beating himself up for something that will never be his fault?”

“Of…of course,” I say, still shaken from even hearing the story. 

Zayn forces a smile, but it is fake and pained. “Thank you, Michael. I’m really sorry I had to be the one to tell you this- I didn’t want to, but you needed to know. Ashton is going to be mad at _both_ of us, and he’s going to think you’ll leave him- you need to reassure him that you are not going anywhere, and that this changes _nothing_ between you.”

“I will, I promise I will.” I nod. “None of this is his fault- he couldn’t control it. He doesn’t need to worry about losing me- I will never leave him. I’d die before I let that happen.”


	24. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you guys are getting this chapter early, because I hit 50k yesterday. I wrote 10,000 words yesterday, and ended up finishing NaNoWriMo, and trust me guys, the plot twist is _huge_. However, I may have broken 50k, but the story isn't over. I do have quite a few chapters stockpiled now, so here you are, with this chapter. Enjoy.

Michael looks haunted when I see him at school the next day. 

He looks nothing like himself- pale, with a dark look in his eyes. He doesn’t look at all okay- something must’ve happened. Something definitely happened after he went home last night, but I can’t be sure what it is. 

“Mikey?” I ask gently. “Are you okay? What happened?”

He raises his head, eyes coming into focus with mine. He’s looking at me- but it doesn’t seem like he’s actually looking at me, or even paying attention to me. He looks so lost in thought- I doubt he even acknowledges my presence. “Yeah, Cal, m’fine. Just tired.”

I roll my eyes. “You wouldn’t look this wrecked, if you were tired. What happened, Mikey? Did your dad say something to you…?”

Michael shakes his head. “No. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. Please just leave me alone, Cal…I need to be alone.”

“O-Okay…did I do something wrong or something? Do you not want to be around me or something?” My eyes fill with fear, as I look at him nervously. Did I fuck something up again? I fucking hope I didn’t cause a rift in our friendship again- if I have, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I’ve hurt him enough.

Michael shakes his head again, forcing a smile onto his face. “No, Cal. It’s not you, I promise. I’m just really stressed and exhausted, it’s not your fault. It’ll never be your fault. I just need a couple minutes to myself, okay? I love you, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Okay, I guess…” I mutter, as he plasters a fake smile further onto his face, before heading down senior hallway. I assume he’s trying to find Ashton- and for some reason, the thought of that creates a sick feeling in my stomach. I’m not Ashton’s biggest fan- that is for sure. 

…

When Michael comes to lunch, he doesn’t say anything- just choosing to set his stuff down, and not even bothering to take his lunch out of his bag. I don’t know what’s wrong with him- but I can tell he’s off today- something happened, and he’s such a stubborn fucker- he won’t tell me shit.

“You not eating, Mike?” I ask, chewing a crisp, and reaching into the bag at my fingertips, for another one.

“M’not hungry,” he mutters. “Where’s Lucas?”

“Coach wanted to talk to him about strategy for this season, since he had to miss the last practice. He should be here in a couple minutes- he did want to talk to us about the next band practice or something.”

Just then, Luke comes into the cafeteria, sliding into the seat next to me. His eyes are bright- he looks very happy. 

“What’s made your so damn happy at this point in the day?” Michael grumbles, staring at the bare table in front of him- an almost disgusted look on his face.

“Coach said I get to start in the game in a couple days- but that’s not important,” Luke replies. “Next band practice is today afternoon- and guys, we need to get some shit done. We’re getting no where if we just keep arguing the entire time. We need to pick some songs to cover, and we need to start practicing them.”

“I’ll try to convince Ashton to come, but I don’t think that’ll happen,” Michael sighs. “He’s not in any type of state to face any new people, at this point.”

…

I limp forward, toward senior hallway, looking carefully for Mikey. He walked in here after last period ended- he must be trying to find Ashton again. I’m still not very fond of the older guy- but I haven’t actually seen him. I wanna see why he’s so fucking scared of everyone- is he normal, or is something wrong with him as well?

I see a flash of dark hair with a blue fringe- and I know that’s Mikey. Trying to follow him while being on crutches isn’t the easiest thing ever- he can hear the click clack of the crutches- so I need to keep my distance, and watch from afar. If he catches me, there’s no telling how fucking pissed he’ll be. 

I see him go up to a dirt blond haired kid’s locker, reaching out to hug the boy gently. Michael murmurs something into his ear- to which I see Ashton stiffen, pulling away and looking at him with obvious hurt in his eyes. What has Mikey done? Ashton looks like Michael has just murdered his puppy or something. 

Michael sigh and beckons him closer, wrapping his arms around Ashton’s waist. He whispers into his ear, trying to calm him down, and smiles when Ashton relaxes against him. He pulls Ashton closer, kicking his backpack out of the way, and shoving the locker door closed. I watch, as he picks Ashton’s backpack up, adding it to his own, and leads the curly haired lad down the hallway.

His arms are wrapped protectively around Ashton, leaving no sight of the senior- but I’ve seen enough for now. I know that Ashton is no threat to mine and Mikey’s friendship- it’s obvious he needs Mikey too- and that’s kinda a good thing. It’ll prove to Mikey that he is needed- and maybe that’ll be another reason for him not to off himself. 

Turning around, I shift the crutches under my arms, and begin limping away from senior hallway, and toward D-Hall- the sophomore hallway. Getting to my locker is easy, but opening it is the hard part. Usually, I have Michael or Luke here to open it and grab my books for me- because I can’t try and put in the combination, while still keeping a hold on my crutches. It’ll only lead to disaster.

Sighing, I limp up to the locker, and use one hand to put in the combination, teetering painfully on my other crutch. When I finally get the door open, I start grabbing books to replace in my backpack, slowly and methodically- hoping to anyone fucking up there that I don’t fall. I can’t fall- there’s no one here to help me- and even if someone was here, I wouldn’t want a stranger to help me.

Eventually, I manage to finish replacing books in my backpack, so I slam the door closed, and heft my backpack onto my shoulder. I turn around, limping toward the exit of the school, where my sister is waiting for me outside. She’s on break for another couple weeks- and I enjoy having her here, it means I don’t have to take the goddamn bus, and fuck, I hate that bus. I feel like everyone is looking at me- and trust me- it really is not a good time. 

…

“Okay guys, what songs should we cover?”

Luke taps the pencil on the notepad in his hands, looking up at us questioningly. “I was thinking some All Time Low songs, maybe Blink-182, shit like that?”

Michael nods in agreement. “That’ll work. I talked to Ashton, and he said he’s not ready yet- which is fine. We can always ask him to come later on, but for right now, just to post shit on YouTube- we really don’t need a drummer. It’d be nice to have him, but we don’t need him just yet.”

“Can we cover I Miss You?” I ask, changing the subject entirely. “And maybe Jasey Rae, by All Time Low? And there are a few others…I just really wanna do I Miss You, it’s one of my absolute favorite songs.”

Luke smiles at me. “You’re not alone there, mate. He glances at the iPod dock in the corner of the room- which is playing a myriad of Blink-182 songs. “They’re one of my favorite bands as well. I also love All Time Low, so we should definitely cover one of their songs- imagine if they saw it.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “I fucking doubt it. They’re on tour at the moment, aren’t they? And they’re really busy- as much as I idolize Alex Gaskarth- I really doubt he’d see a cover we make, let alone Jack, Zack, or Rian. We may have a chance, but it’s unlikely.”

Luke sighs. “Must you be so damn pessimistic all the time?”

Michael forces a smile. “I do it just for you, Lucas. I thought you were enjoying it- weren’t you? You love my pessimistic humor, don’t you, Lukey?” He reaches over and pinches Luke’s cheeks, to which the blond reacts by slapping his hands away and glaring daggers at him.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Luke grumbles. He scrawls something on the notepad, looking up at me. “I also wanna cover Teenage Dirtbag. Covering a Wheatus song would be legendary- they’re an amazing band, that no one can beat.”

I nod. “Of course. Teenage Dirtbag is a fucking amazing song- and your voice would fit it perfectly.”

“Yours would be good too, Cal,” Michael adds. “Which reminds me- you need to sing for Luke.”

“I think this is the first time I’m actually agreeing with something he’s said,” Luke comments. “But yes Cal, you do need to sing for me. I really wanna hear your voice- it’d give me a good idea of why Michael is so fucking obsessed with it.”

“C’mon, I’m not that good…” 

Michael glares at me. “Do you want me to slap you with your crutches? You can fucking sing, Calum. And Luke deserves to hear how amazing you are. Trust me, once he hears you sing, he’ll agree with me. Your voice is amazing.”

“So is yours,” I say slyly. “You have an amazing voice too, Mikey. You sing all the time- and I love hearing it. Your voice is kinda different, with a softer and different quality- I really think it could compliment the melody in a lot of songs, eh? So if I sing for Lucas, you have to sing as well.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “If that’s what it takes to get you to sing, fine. Don’t expect your windows to stay intact when I do, though- my voice is so fucking shitty, it has the power to break glass.”


	25. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, just a quick note. Heavy trigger warning for anorexia in the last scene of this chapter, skip the last scene if that will trigger you. And just a quick thing, if you do read that scene- Luke's perception of his body is heavily distorted- and just a reminder, he is _not_ right by any means, and I don't agree one bit with what he says or thinks about himself there. Anorexia is a serious disorder, and I wanted to highlight how serious it is, with that scene.

Two weeks pass, and I really think that this band thing is going to work out. 

There haven’t been any signs of a disagreement or argument between me and Calum, me and Michael, or Michael and Calum- and Michael said he’d start to work on getting Ashton on board with the idea of joining the band. To be honest- I really do think Ashton would be a great addition- a great completer to our band. 

Michael speaks extremely highly of him- and from what I’ve seen, Ashton is just like us. Quiet, an outcast, heavily bullied- it doesn’t seem that far off from the rest of us. I just wish we could meet him, I really want to know more about him. He’s such an enigma- he’s like a person I really want to find out more about. 

Enough of the band talk- let’s discuss how parents can’t take a goddamn hint, even when it is flat out said to them. Despite me blowing up at my parents and brothers- the teasing has only started back up again, and everything has started to go to shit again. I don’t even know why I’m surprised- thinking that they’d be able to change was honestly fucking stupid of me. 

They’re people that aren’t capable of change- my brothers still call me a fag every time I walk into the house- and yes, it’s true- I _am_ gay, but I am not a fucking faggot. I know that my family isn’t homophobic, and they’re just joking around with the word- but fucking hell, being called a faggot every time I enter a room is really hurting me.

Since the teasing has started up again, the starving has become more intense- like, I don’t even eat most days. I guzzle water like I haven’t seen a bottle in days, but I really don’t eat very much. I don’t want to eat- maybe once I’m perfect, they’ll fucking leave me alone, and I can die in peace. I fucking hate them- at this point, I don’t even consider them my family anymore.

Family are not supposed to tear you down, make you feel like shit, that sort of thing. Families are supposed to lift you up and make you feel okay again. I can’t even remember the last time my parents said they loved me- and I doubt they do love me. I mean, who the hell would love someone like me? I starve myself, I’m depressed, and everything hurts all the time.

I wish I was dead. I fucking wish I could swallow a bunch of pills and pass out, eventually to stop breathing. I just wanna stop fucking breathing- maybe if I took my life, my parents and brothers would realize how much words can fucking destroy a person. Words can definitely destroy a mind, a heart, a spirit. 

Words are a fucking wonderful illusion. They can form sentences, paragraphs, thoughts, ideas, anything, really. Words are the basis of human life, because what we say impacts our emotions and feelings. What we say or what is said to us impacts decisions. Words can cause a person to kill themselves. Words are probably the most powerful thing ever to exist to mankind. Though stab wounds can heal, and bones will mend, the scars of words left on the heart can never be erased. 

…

“Luke, seriously. Why aren’t you eating? And don’t give me that bullshit excuse about not being hungry, you’ve used that way too many times, for me to believe it.”

I stare at Michael nervously, playing with my fingers and avoiding his gaze. Silence has draped over the table- Calum isn’t here, he wanted to go to the library and review for a test he has next period. It’s me and Michael, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t uncomfortable being alone with him.

It’s not that I don’t like him- I sure as _fuck_ do, it’s just that I feel like he’s always judged me. He’s always watching, and I’m hypersensitive around him, because I feel like he’s always judging me and still hates me inside- I don’t even know why I think that, I just do.

“I’m just…I don’t want to eat right now,” I mutter hurriedly. “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.”

Michael nods suspiciously- I wait for him to push the issue further, but he doesn’t, chewing his sandwich thoughtfully. He finishes up his lunch, and excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving me to sit and contemplate on what he could possibly think about me now. 

…

The scale is daunting. 

I stare at it fearfully, my stomach rolling nervously. The numbers that scale gives me will determine my mood from hereon out. Those numbers will determine whether I can keep up the diet I’ve been on, or whether I have to stop drinking so much water, and cut back even more. I’m praying that my results will leave me satisfied- hating myself is fucking exhausting.

Here goes nothing.

I undress, and walk over to the scale, stepping onto the metal- wincing when it creaks underneath my weight. That isn’t a good sign- not for me, at least.

122\. 

My eyes widen. I’ve _gained_ weight? The granola bars actually caused me to put on a pound? What the fucking hell? Tears fill my eyes, blurring and distorting that goddamned number. Fucking 122. Why can’t I be in the double digits already? That’s where people with perfect bodies fall- I’m such a fucking fatass.

I get off the scale and kick it away, slumping down against the wall. Angrily swiping tears from my cheeks, I bury my head in my knees. I’m just trying to calm myself down- I need to accept that I’m not good enough, and do something to fix it. Wallowing in self-pity is going to do nothing for me.

My naked body disgusts me. My _clothed_ body disgusts me. My body disgusts me in general. I don’t even know why I’m so upset over being called ‘fatass Hemmings’, when it’s fucking true. Every single ounce of it is true. I’m sitting here, with my knees up to my chest, and I can fucking see the fat rolls on my stomach. I can see the bulge, when I look in the mirror. I can see the pudge and extra fat on my arms and legs, and no matter what anyone tells me- that will never cease to disgust me. That’s not natural- everyone else doesn’t have it. They all have flat stomachs, abs, the works. And I’m stuck with this fucking _pudge_.

Reaching down, I pinch the fat on the back of my legs, my fat calves. Calum’s legs are stick thin- he doesn’t have fat on his calves, it’s all pure muscle. Why can’t I fucking be like that? I’m just a fucking huge pig with rolls and bulges- I just wanna rip my skin off. I just wanna do _something, anything_ that will make me perfect.

Perfection is key. 

Once I’ve achieved perfection, people will stop teasing me about my weight. I’ll not get called ‘fatass Hemmings’ anymore, and people will finally gawk at me in a _good_ way. I want to have a body that makes others jealous- I want to be that satisfied with my body.

Right now, I hate my fucking stomach and gut and thighs and legs- all of it just disgusts me. My stomach is huge, and I can feel the fat rolls right now, while I’m sitting. My thighs and gut are thick with fat- not with muscle, like Calum. 

He’s the definition of perfect- his body is amazing. He has muscles- his arms are huge, and his legs are thin and muscular. He has _amazing_ abs- I’ve seen them in the locker room, while we’ve changed for practice. He’s fucking fit- and next to him, I’m just a blob of fucking _fat_. I hate it so fucking much. I hate being like this, and being unable to change it. I hate that nothing I’ve tried ever works. I hate even waking up every morning. I wish I could just rip my skin off. 

“I _hate_ you. I fucking _hate_ you.” The words of self-hate pass my lips with no regret- I have no doubt in what I’m telling myself. I fucking hate every single inch of my body- actually, that’s a lie- I like my eyes, but I hate everything else about myself. I’m disgusting, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Starving myself obviously isn’t working- and dieting is hell- and I’m still fucking _fat_. 

I wish I didn’t compare myself to Calum all the time- but there’s nothing I can do about it. He measures up to society’s standards- and I’m far from that. I just have thick thighs and a horrid stomach and all of it makes me want to kill myself- because I know that my body is so far gone, and I will _never_ achieve the level of perfection Calum is at. I’ll never be as thin as he is- as muscular as he is- I will never measure up to him. 

So why bother trying?


	26. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is where shit starts to hit the fan- the plot twists completely, and I don't think any of you guys will be able to anticipate it. I hope you enjoy this one- beware of a heavy trigger warning for self-harm in the first scene, skip to "Ash...?", if you don't want to read it.

Zayn told. 

He told Michael, even after promising me he wouldn’t tell a single soul. Saying I’m pissed is a gross understatement- I don’t understand why he felt the need to betray me like that. I never wanted Michael to know. Michael doesn’t need to know how fucking screwed up I am- how damaged, dirty, and disgusting my body is. Michael doesn’t need to be burdened with that shit. He already thinks I’m fucked up- he doesn’t need more evidence confirming his goddamn theory. I’m so fucking screwed up- there’s no way I can recover. No fucking way. The likelihood of pigs flying is higher. 

I grab my blade, not even caring about the fact that Zayn and Louis are just outside the bathroom door, oblivious to the torment I’m going through laughing happily and playing with my siblings. If they’re here, it means Loz and Haz are distracted, so I can cut and self-depreciate in peace, with no one to interrupt and ask whether I’m okay. Obvious question, obvious answer. I I sure as hell am not even close to okay.

Zayn knows I’m angry- that’s why he’s opted to leave me alone. He knows that I fucking hate him for telling Michael everything. He said he told him that they found me on the side of the road, and took me to get the damn rape kit done. I don’t know whether he told Michael how bad I was, at that point- but I sincerely hope he didn’t for Michael’s own good. That was a scary time- I don’t want Michael to leave me, because he’s too afraid to deal with the mess that I am. 

I slash into my upper arm, wincing when the pain hits- but really not paying it much attention. The blood drips out, starting to roll down my arm in steady rivulets. I just watch, captivated by its beauty. Blood is beautiful- the color is so bright, and the patterns it makes are amazing. I sound so fucking sick, talking about blood in a positive way- but I just want to bleed out- so I guess it makes some kind of sense. 

They’re worried about me. All of them. And they have reason to be- because this is the furthest I’ve gotten, and I’m scaring myself with how bad I am. But honestly- I don’t want them to know that something is really wrong, until it’s too late. Until it’s too late for them to save me- until I’m gone from this world forever. 

Then, everyone can know how badly damaged I am- and how fucking cruel society is. I hate people- all they do is hurt others and make everyone feel like shit. The worst part about all of this is- if that man hadn’t assaulted me in the way that he did, I probably wouldn’t be this far gone. If it was just my mother’s negligence weighing me down, I’d be okay. 

But I’m not okay. I’m far from okay- and I really just need someone to hug me and tell me that I’m gonna be alright- because right now, I fucking doubt that’ll happen.

…

“Ash…?”

 _Don’t bother. I know you know everything, you’re not obligated to talk to me. You don’t wanna be friends with someone like me._ I shake my head, not bothering to meet Michael’s eyes. _I’m sorry you had to find out like that- I never wanted you to find out at all._

“Why? Why did you feel like you have to keep that from everyone, Ash?” Michael says gently. “It’s not something you need to be ashamed of- and I know you feel ashamed and blame yourself, but it was not your fault. It wasn’t your fault- and it will never be your fault. The only person to blame in this- is that fucking cunt who broke you.”

_I’m just…sorry…I’m so sorry that you have such a fuck up as a best friend. I’ve been trying to act normal for so long, and it’s so fucking hard. I’m sorry…_

Michael’s eyes soften. “Ash…babe, you’re a really good actor, did you know that? I wouldn’t have ever guessed what happened, if Zayn hadn’t told me. What Zayn said was a complete and utter shock- so, if you’ve been trying to pretend it didn’t happen, you’ve succeeded externally. I don’t know what you think of yourself on the inside- but I know that none of it is true. You’re still the most amazing, strongest, most perfect guy I’ve ever known. And none of what Zayn said, changes that.”

I try to type a response, but my hands are shaking, and I can barely see the screen of my phone through tears. Michael notices immediately, pulling me into a tight hug, letting me bury my face in his shoulder. I smile weakly, hugging him tightly. 

Michael squeezes me tightly, putting pressure on my arms. I wince, pulling away from him, and his eyes widen. “Ash…no, fuck…no…you can’t be…no…”

He reaches for my right arm, and I shrink back, shaking my head vigorously. Michael sighs. “Ashton, please…just let me see…”

I relent, and he pushes my sleeve up, his face paling at the amount of scars and fresh cuts there. “Oh my god…I really, really hoped you wouldn’t ever do something like this to yourself- I know the pain, it hurts so fucking much…you don’t deserve this, Ash…you really don’t deserve any of this…I’m so fucking sorry you felt like you had to do this…”

_Wait…Mikey, you cut too?_

Michael smiles ruefully, dropping my arm, and pushing up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. His arms are almost identical to mine, covered in scars, drops of dried blood still clinging onto some of the cuts. “I never wanted to know you do it too…it’s bad enough that Calum does it…”

 _Calum cuts himself?_

“Yeah…and I think there could be something wrong with Luke as well…I’ve never seen him eat in my presence or in Cal’s. He says he’s already eaten- but I doubt that, because I can only see him getting thinner…”

 _We’re fucked up, aren’t we?_ I chuckle humorlessly, as Michael recovers his arms, before pulling me back into his arms. 

“Yeah, we are…and now, you know that they’re not as okay as they seem…they’ll understand, Ash…so maybe, do you wanna consider coming to our next band practice? I’m not gonna force you to do anything, not by any means, but we managed to book a gig at The Annandale Hotel, and we really need a drummer…”

_I’ll do it. It has to be tomorrow, though- that’s my only free day this week. I work tonight, and I promised Harry we’d have a movie night on Friday._

“That’s perfect, Ashton.”

…

“Everything is going to be okay, Ash. They already know that you don’t speak, you’re gonna be fine. Do you want me to call Zayn or Louis? Maybe just for company or something?” Michael asks, as I follow him down the stairs, into his basement. 

_I think I’m okay. But maybe, you can call all five of them over one time, because they’re experienced in singing and shit, and depending how things go today, if we need pointers, we can go to them for advice…?_

“I can definitely do that,” Michael replies. “Now, just relax. Luke and Calum pose no threat to you, I promise. They’re harmless- and even if they do say something iffy, I’ll put ‘em into place immediately. They’re not gonna say shit to you, and get away with it. I don’t roll that way.”

I nod, and we walk out into the basement- where the other half of the band is. Luke- the one with the blond hair- he’s sitting on one of the couches, tuning a guitar lazily. Calum- he has much darker hair, and almost looks Asian- but Michael warned me that he isn’t, he’s Kiwi and Scottish- he’s sitting on the other end of the couch, crutches propped against the arm, playing his bass absentmindedly. 

They both look up, when we walk into the room. Luke smiles, getting up, and helping Calum up. “Hey guys,” he says softly. “Ashton, is it? Thank you for coming, we really need you…”

_I’m not that good…so I don’t know whether you’ll be saying that in a couple of minutes. I’m out of practice- haven’t had much time to play…but I guess it’s good to be here. And nice to meet you both._

They both look wary of my lack of words- and Michael sighs. “I told you guys, he doesn’t speak. It’s not that big of a deal- he can communicate perfectly well through his phone. It won’t affect anything, so just suck it up and deal with it.”

_I’m sorry…this might be inconvenient for you guys- I don’t speak, I haven’t in almost a year…I’m scared too…there’s something that happened, something that changed everything for me…and I’m just not ready to start talking again. Again, I’m really sorry if this isn’t the easiest thing to get around…_

“Ash, shut the hell up. You’re here- and that’s an accomplishment in itself. These two will deal with it- you don’t have to do something that’ll make you uncomfortable, to satisfy them.”

“Michael’s right, Ashton,” Calum speaks up. “It’s fine that you don’t talk. We don’t need you to talk- we just need you to play the drums, or the cajon, and you can do both. It may take Luke and I a couple days or so to get used to it- but I promise, it’s fine, you’re not required to say a word to any of us.”

I force a smile. _Thanks…that’s good to know. Do you guys have any songs picked out? Because I have a couple that I can play to show you my drumming skills, I guess, and maybe afterward, can I hear you three together? Just to see how it sounds, and where I fit in?_

“Definitely,” Luke replies. “The band is complete now, it’s only a matter of rehearsing and practicing until we’re perfect.”


	27. Chapter 26

Band rehearsal went well. 

Ashton seemed to be enjoying it- he smiled a couple times, and it really looked like he was genuinely happy, the drumming taking away this stress and pain and worry. He needs that- the breaks sometimes can do wonders for him. I really wish he could be like that all the time, but I guess small moments are progress, at least for now. 

He’s home, and I talked to Zayn again- at least one of them is staying at his house every night, helping him with chores, making sure his siblings get their homework done, and helping to play with them later. It’s a system that works- and I’m so glad he has Zayn, Louis, Niall, Liam and Harry- those five are truly special lads, and the fact that they’re willing to give up their time and energy to help Ashton out is amazing. 

I just…I’m still not over the fact that he’s cutting himself. I mean, I’m not exactly surprised- in a way, I expected it. I just…I don’t know why I didn’t realize it earlier. I could’ve confronted him, I could’ve helped him stop…I just hate that he’s in the same place that I am. It’s not fun, it’s not fair, and it just fucking _hurts._ He doesn’t need anymore pain on top of the agony he’s already going through- it doesn’t make anything better for him.

And Luke…Luke is another place of concern, in my mind. The guy doesn’t fucking eat- he’s so skinny, and he doesn’t eat. I mean, I get the whole hating your body thing, hell, I throw up everything I eat- so I get it. But I don’t understand why he has any reason to starve himself- his body is fucking perfect- he’s so thin- he might not be muscular, but he’s thin as hell- he has no reason to starve himself.

He looks almost anorexic- his body is so emaciated- he’s basically just skin and bones, and god fucking dammit, that fucking terrifies me. I don’t want to watch him die- victim to an eating disorder that’s managed to captivate his mind. The demons in his head aren’t right- I’ve read about this. ‘Ana’ is not right- I mean, I know that Ana is the demon that girls see, but I’m not sure if boys see the same one. Either way, the demons inside his head could not be more wrong. 

Luke is really a perfect person- he has so many qualities that make him so. He’s smart, really sweet, adorably awkward- and even more. It seems like I hate him- but I really don’t. I don’t think it’s possible to hate him- he’s so fucking cute sometimes, and the way he bites his lip when he’s nervous or in an awkward situation kills me. I just don’t know why he makes me feel a certain way- but he does- and I hate him and love him for doing that to me. 

I don’t think this is a brotherly relationship- I have that with Calum, and this doesn’t feel anything like it. Luke is different. The relationship I’ve formed with him is different from the one I’ve formed with Ashton and the one I’ve formed with Calum. Luke is just…different. I don’t know how he can not be loved- how he’s been torn down so many times, he’s resorted to harming his body and starving himself. 

It boggles my mind- I really wish I could _pound_ the person that’s put ideas like that into Luke’s head. I never want him hurting- I never want him to harm his body in any way. It hurts to see him doing this to himself, because I know that he doesn’t deserve it, even though he thinks he does. 

…

_But there’s a monster standing where you should be, so I’ll paint you wings…(I’ll set you free)…_

All Time Low blasts in my ears, the song one that I can relate with deeply. There are a lot of songs I’d love to blast in certain people’s faces. Songs that convey how I feel toward them now, songs that convey what exactly they’ve done to me. Actions speak louder than words- and fucking hell, actions can signify a lot. They can hurt a person- they can break a person.

I’m on my way home, shifting my backpack on my shoulders. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a crowd surrounding someone, screaming and sirens in the distance. Strangely, I can hear the screaming and the sirens over how loud my music is- and the sight has definitely piqued my interest. Someone is hurt- something happened. Not sure what- but something is definitely wrong, if 911 had to be called. 

I veer off the sidewalk, jogging toward the scene. The crowd of people is large, but I’m able to slip through, shrinking my body as small as I can get, to cut through gaps, and finally, I manage to make my way to the front of the crowd, right to the body lying on the ground in front of me. 

My eyes widen, and I just stare, paralyzed in shock. A sick feeling makes itself presence, dizziness overcoming me at once. That’s Luke. 

Luke, lying on the ground, unconscious, his bike horrendously broken beside him. Blood is pooling on the tar underneath him, from an obvious head wound. His right leg is twisted in a way I _know_ right legs should _not_ be twisted, and from the looks of it, I can see how bloody and torn his clothes are. His body is marred with cuts, blood seeping out of some places. 

I drop to my knees, feeling a sting of pain as I hit the ground, but making no move to care. Ripping my earbuds out, I get as close to Luke as I possibly can, grabbing his arm and feeling for a pulse. Relief floods me, as I feel it- it’s faint, but his pulse is there, and I can see his chest rising and falling faintly, as he breathes. 

“Excuse me, sir, do you know this person?” A stranger in the crowd taps my shoulder, and I turn to look at them- that’s when I realize I’m crying, tears streaking my face. 

“Y-Yeah…he’s one of my best friends…” I choke out, wincing when my voice cracks in every place possible. I turn back to Luke, my chest physically aching at how broken he looks.

“I’m so sorry,” the stranger says softly. “An ambulance is on its way, he has a pulse, correct?”

I nod. I hear a muffled groan, and my eyes widen, head snapping around to look at Luke intently. 

“Lukey, baby, can you hear me?” I whisper, leaning down and putting my ear close to his mouth. 

He coughs, and it sounds like the cough is painful. His eyes start to blink open, and finally focus on me- but when he goes to move, he lets out a low scream of pain. “M-Mikey…”

“Hi, baby,” I say, forcing a smile onto my face, despite how hard I’m crying. “It’s gonna be okay…everything is going to be okay, you’re gonna be fine Luke, I promise. The ambulance is coming, just hold on a little longer…”

“M’sorry…” Luke whispers, his voice very soft and rough with pain. “M’sleepy, Mikey…”

His eyes start to close, and I shake my head vigorously. No, he can’t sleep, he has a head injury, that could mean bad things. God fucking dammit, where’s the goddamn ambulance?!

“No no no, baby, come on, stay awake for me, okay? The ambulance is almost here, you’re gonna be at the hospital soon, just please stay awake Lukey, please. You can’t fall asleep, you have a bad head injury…”

Luke looks at me with confused and glazed eyes. “W-W-What?” He’s slurring his words, and his eyes are starting to close. 

“Come on baby, just hang on,” I coo, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I just wanna bring him into my arms, but I know that would cause him immense pain- and I would never want to inflict something like that on him.

I finally hear a screeching of wheels, and the sirens become much closer. Luke visibly flinches. “Head hurts…Mikey, make it stop!” He’s obviously distressed, and his movement is so limited right now, he can’t do much about the sirens. 

“It’s okay baby, everything is okay. I’m right here.” 

I feel someone kneel beside me, and I turn to face the paramedic. She gives me a small smile, talking into her radio quickly, before addressing me. “What happened?”

“I don’t know…I wasn’t there at the time of the accident…but I assume he got hit by a car, his bike’s over there.” I motion to the wrecked form of transport, and she nods grimly. Another two paramedics come up behind her, wheeling a stretcher with them. 

“You need to step away from the victim now, sir, we need to get him up on the gurney,” she tells me. I nod, not wanting to argue with her right now. 

“Lukey, I’m just gonna step to the side for a few minutes, okay?” I tell him gently. His eyes are half-closed, and I don’t even know if he can hear me, but he acknowledges me with a muffled grunt.

I move away, and watch, as the two male paramedics lift Luke up onto the stretcher in one motion. Luke cries out loudly, and I hate hearing him cry- but there’s nothing I can do. 

“Wait, can I ride with him? Please, he needs me…please…” I beg, putting on my puppy dog eyes and hoping for the best. 

The female paramedic sighs. “Alright. Call his parents, please.”

I nod, hoping into the ambulance, beside Luke’s stretcher. He’s unconscious again, and that makes my heart ache- I just…I can’t process anything right now. I’m just…hoping this is all a fucking nightmare. It has to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...did any of you expect that? You're free to hate me as much as you want for this, because trust me, it's gonna get worse before it gets better. But upcoming chapters are chock full of Muke, so there's your one positive.
> 
> And also- Happy Thanksgiving, guys, I hope you enjoy the time with your families. Thanks for reading- you guys are amazing readers, and I am grateful and thankful for every single one of you.


	28. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's also some Cashton in this- but you gotta wait until next chapter to find out about Luke, so...yeah, there's that. Anyway, enjoy.

I’m outside my house, fidgeting nervously as I wait for Ashton to come pick me up. We’ve just received the news about Luke, and Michael told me he was sending Ashton to come and pick me up, because both of us want to go to the hospital anyway- it doesn’t make sense to make two trips.

Tears are already running down my cheeks. Luke was _fine_ , I saw him at school today, everything was okay, and then I get the news that he was hit by a _car_. It’s a lot to process, but I’m already sobbing. My face is red and blotchy, and my vision is distorted, I can barely see an old Honda Civic pull up. 

Blinking heavily, I see Ashton smile and wave at me, and I force a smile, limping forward. I toss my crutches into the back, and get into the passenger’s seat. Once I close my door, Ashton sets off down the road, on the way to the hospital. He takes his right hand off the wheel, and hands me his phone.

_I’m so sorry about Luke, Calum. I don’t know him as well as you do, but this is fucking horrible. I’m staying with you guys at the hospital tonight, assuming he has to stay overnight. Mikey said he was bleeding from his head- they’ll definitely keep him overnight for a head injury like that. Anyway, everything is going to be okay, I promise. Luke is strong, he’s a fighter- he’ll pull through. You have nothing to worry about, Calum. Luke is going to get through this just fine._

I force the weak smile back onto my face. “I’m just…worried as hell, and Mikey sounded really upset on the phone, so I don’t know how bad it’s gonna be…I’m just scared, Ashton…I’m really fucking scared. How the hell did this even happen?”

Ashton sighs and nods in acknowledgement- confirming that he’s heard. I guess I’m going to have to get used to him not replying to me- he can’t exactly type something out while he’s driving. I’ll have to wait until we get to the hospital. 

Luckily, it’s not too far away. Ashton turns into the parking lot five minutes later, pulling up to the entrance. He motions me to get out, and mimes parking the car afterward. I nod, grabbing my crutches from the back, and getting out. Ashton drives off, leaving me to limp into the building, not knowing where the hell to go- or where Michael is. 

“Hi, I’m looking for Luke Hemmings?” I ask the receptionist urgently, eyes wild with fear. 

She types something into her computer, before nodding. “Ah, yes. He’s still in surgery. The emergency waiting from is up one floor- you can’t miss it. The boy that came in with him, Michael Clifford? He should be there, if you’re looking for him as well.”

I nod, thanking her, and set off toward the elevator, texting Ashton the location quickly. I don’t have the patience to wait for him- and I doubt he’d want me to. I get a reply two minutes later, Ashton saying he’ll meet up upstairs. 

Getting into the elevator, I press the correct button and sigh heavily, closing my eyes. How the _fuck_ did this happen?

…

Michael is nothing short of a wreck. He’s pacing the waiting from, hands entangled in his hair, entire face red and blotchy. Once he sees me, he practically runs over to me, engulfing me in a hug, and burying his face in my shoulder. “It was so fucking horrible, shit, Cal…he was in so much pain and I couldn’t do anything…it felt so awful…”

“I know, I just…I can’t believe this…” I whisper.

“Where’s Ash?”

“He’s on his way up, he dropped me off at the entrance and went to park the car. I texted him to come up here, and he said he’d be here in a couple of minutes.”

Michael nods, slumping back onto a chair, and pulling me down with him. “I called his parents…they thought I was joking at first…they’re on their way.”

“His parents and brothers are dicks, Mike,” I sigh. “They tease him and ridicule him, and every time I’ve been over at his house, I’ve heard ‘fatass Hemmings’ tossed around more than once.”

Michael clenches his first. “Those fuckers…no fucking _wonder_ he’s starving himself…they’re being fucking dicks around his weight, if I was him, I’d probably in the same place.”

“Mikey…what?” I ask in disbelief. “He’s doing what?”

Michael nods grimly. “He’s starving himself, Cal. I haven’t seen him eat _at all_ , since he’s started sitting with us at lunch, and he looks fucking _emaciated_. I think…I think Luke is anorexic, Cal…”

…

Ashton rushes into the waiting room, and Michael jumps to his feet, wrapping himself around the older boy. I can hear him start to sob, as he buries his face in Ashton’s shoulder. Ashton lifts him off his feet momentarily, before setting him down. He squeezes Michael tightly to his chest, as he leads him back over to the chairs. 

Ashton smiles at me, keeping a tight hold on Michael, who’s clinging to him and refusing to let go. He sighs, rubbing Michael’s back, as the black-haired boy chokes out garbled strings of words through his heavy sobs. 

“Calum?”

I look up, and my eyes widen. 

Liz, Andy, Jack, and Ben are standing in front of me, all looking very stressed and worried. “Where’s our boy?”

“In surgery,” I say hoarsely. “He was rushed in as soon as he got here. But if you want information, talk to Michael- he was the one who found Luke after he was…hit…and he rode in the ambulance here…”

Luke’s father nods, just as Michael pulls away from Ashton, the wet spots on the eldest’s shirt showing how much he’s cried already. Michael stands up shakily, walking over to us. 

“H-He was on his way home, he was riding his bike, and a car rammed into him, after running a red light…at least, that’s what I was told. I didn’t…see it happen. I could tell that his right leg was broken, and he was bleeding from his head…I don’t know anything else…”

Luke’s mother puts a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “My baby…oh my poor baby…”

“Michael,” Ben says softly. “Is he…was he awake at all…?”

Michael nods. “Y-Yeah…he was so scared and in a lot of pain…he didn’t want to let go of me, and he was crying. His head was hurting a lot, that’s what he said…”

“He never did have very good control with his bike,” Jack jokes weakly- and that mere sentence makes my blood boil. How fucking dare he? That’s not something you joke about- this is Luke’s _life_ at stake.

Michael’s eyes widen. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?! I may not have seen the accident, but I talked to a couple people who did, and none of it was Luke’s fault.”

“It was just a joke, man…” Jack tries to defend, but Michael steamrolls right over him.

“Just a joke? Pfft,” Michael growls, his eyes wide. “If it was just a joke, if _anything_ you said was just a joke, your baby brother wouldn’t be hurting and _dying inside,_ because of it. What you think are jokes, he obviously doesn’t- and I know he’s told you that your jokes aren’t funny and that they hurt. So why, why the _hell_ do you keep saying that shit? Are you purposefully trying to hurt him?! Do you not give a damn about his feelings? He’s not a fucking robot- he has feelings, he has emotions, and he can feel pain. When he says to stop, you _listen_. You don’t keep calling him ‘fatass Hemmings’, despite his obvious expression that he _hates_ that. If you ask me, I wonder why you guys are here at all- do you really care about him?”

“Young man, he’s our son, of course we care about him- who are you to say we don’t?” Andy says, his tone cold. 

Michael doesn’t flinch. He walks right up to Luke’s father and looks him in the eye. “Yeah? Then maybe you’d notice that the boy- that your _son_ \- is fucking _starving_ himself, because your _other_ sons won’t stop calling him ‘fatass Hemmings’, and if it weren’t for this accident- he’d be in the hospital for a different reason- malnutrition. He’s fucking skin and bones, and you haven’t even noticed. So let me ask you that again- do you really care about him? Or is he just your goddamn punching bag?”

…

It’s been two hours since Luke was rushed into surgery, and we’ve heard nothing.

Michael’s outburst seemed to give Luke’s brothers the kick in the asses they needed- Jack stormed off, and Ben is sitting in silence, his knees to his chest- most likely crying. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel bad for him, but it kinda is his fault that Luke’s so skinny and bony. His and Jack’s combined. 

Sighing, I rest my head on Ashton’s shoulder. Ashton glances at me, at the tears rolling down my cheeks, and sighs. He brings me onto his lap, and lets me bury my face in his chest. I bury my nose in his shirt, letting my tears soak into his already damp shirt. I can feel him rubbing my back gently, and then his lips on my hair.

“I’m so scared, Ash…” I choke out. Ashton just shushes me and coaxes me to let it all out, holding me tightly and rubbing steady circles on my back. I think I understand why Michael loves him so much- he’s the best person to have at a time like this, he’s calm, collected, and he offers so much comfort. If it weren’t for him, Mikey and I would both be falling apart right now- we need him.

Ashton may not think of himself as amazing, but damn, he really is. And without him- I don’t know how we’re gonna get through this. I have no fucking clue what’s going to happen anymore. 

I just want Luke to be okay.

_I just want Luke to be okay._


	29. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's an emotional roller coaster. Be prepared.

“Family of Luke Hemmings?”

A doctor steps out into the waiting room, dressed in blue hospital scrubs. He’s carrying a clipboard and surveying the room, nodding, as Luke’s parents stand up, waving him over. He walks over to all of us, noticing Michael sitting next to me, Calum in my lap, and Ben a couple chairs down.

“I’m Doctor Simmons. You are his parents, if I assume correctly?” He directs the question to Liz and Andy, who nod.

“Yes, we are. How is our baby?” Liz asks tearfully. 

Doctor Simmons flips a page on his clipboard, glancing at all of us. “I don’t have very good news, I’m afraid. Luke was hit head on by the oncoming vehicle, and obviously, since he was on a bike- that did not bode well for him. Aside from cuts and scratches, he sustained a major concussion- luckily, it didn’t cause major bleeding in his brain. He was bleeding from his head, so we stitched up the wound, and we’re monitoring that very closely. His right leg is broken, his left arm was shattered. He’s got another surgery in a couple of hours- we need to put some pins into his left arm, to hold his bones together, before we cast it. Right now, it’s splinted. Finally, he’s broken three ribs, and we’re continually icing those to keep the swelling down.”

It’s a lot to take in- even hearing that makes me slightly nauseous. Calum shakes with a sob, curling back against me and hiding his face. Michael is deathly pale- looking like he’s about to pass out or throw up. 

Luke’s mother is crying freely, and his father has his head in his hands. Both of them look wrecked- rightfully so, considering how shitty they’ve been to their son. Now, they have to face seeing him in a hospital bed. Ben’s head is buried in his knees, and I can hear him crying softly. Jack still hasn’t returned- something tells me there’s definitely something wrong with him. But it’s time to focus on Luke now, not his brother.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings, you can see your son. The rest of you can as well- however, there’s a limit of three people in his room at a time- he is awake, and we don’t want to overwhelm him. However- there is something else I’d like to discuss with you. Luke is severely underweight, and when we were doing tests on him- he has not been eating, his body is greatly deprived of nutrients. He weights 120 pounds approximately, and for a boy who’s six feet tall- that is severely underweight. It seems to me he has been starving himself- and I don’t want to ask him about it now, but I would suggest you talk to him about it. Not now- he’s in quite a bit of pain and very exhausted, but at some point- it does need to be addressed. Now, do you want to see him?”

…

Luke looks awful.

There are bandages and tubes every place I look- it looks like something out of a horror movie. His head is tightly wrapped, his right leg is casted, and his left arm is splinted and wrapped, held to his chest with a sling. The poor thing is as pale as the sheets of the bed, and there are multiple tubes sticking out of his right arm- I know for a fact that one of them is a feeding tube. The amount of wires and tubes and machines surrounding him breaks my heart, and I can feel Calum start to sway, clutching onto me so he doesn’t pass out.

“Oh my fucking god…” Michael whispers. 

“H-Hi guys…” Luke says hoarsely, his voice rough with pain. 

“Oh, Lukey…” Michael stares at his broken body, lip trembling and eyes glassing over. He leans down and presses his lips to Luke’s head. “How are you feeling?”

“Quite shitty, to be honest,” Luke says truthfully. “This fucking kills. And my arm…let’s not even go there, it hurts so fucking bad…”

Michael’s lower lip wobbles, and he leans down, hugging Luke as carefully as possible, kissing his head once more. “I’m s-so sorry, I love you…”

Luke rolls his eyes. “It isn’t your fault, Mikey. It’s that damn car’s fault- no one else is to be blamed.”

Michael pulls away and nods tearily, leaving Calum to limp forward. He leans down and kisses Luke’s forehead as well, smiling sadly at him. “You’ll be okay soon, Lukey…”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Luke replies bitterly. “Everything hurts…”

“I…I can’t watch this…I’m sorry…” Michael chokes out, whirling around and going for the door. He slams it, in his haste to get out of the room as fast as possible, and Luke flinches, putting his good hand to his head.

“Fuck…” He finally lifts his head, looking up at us. “Is he okay?”

“He rode with you in the ambulance, Luke. He found you after the accident,” Calum informs him. “He’s been a mess the entire time…he really loves you, despite what he may say…”

Luke forces a weak smile. “I know…still kinda remember bits and pieces of what happened…I remember him comforting me, and how scared he was, when I was about to fall asleep…I didn’t mean to scare him so bad…Ash, will you go talk to him? I would, but…” 

I nod, turning and following Michael, making sure to shut the door as quietly as possible, as not to irritate Luke’s head.

Mikey is sitting on a chair outside the door, head in his heads, sobbing quietly to himself. His sobs are dry and choked, sounding utterly painful. My heart shatters for him- he doesn’t deserve to be in this much pain.

I lift him off the chair, and sit down, putting him in my lap. He doesn’t even react, just falls fluidly into my chest and continues to cry. I sigh, rubbing his back gently. 

_Mikey…_ I hold my phone out to him, after he’s calmed down enough to pull away from me, wiping at his face with the wet sleeves of his sweatshirt. 

“H-He looks s-so b-broken…” Michael chokes out, his voice sounding so pained. “I don’t want him to be like this Ash, I don’t!”

_I know…but he’s going to be fine. He’s awake and he talked to us, you saw him, he’s going to be fine. Everything is gonna be okay Mikey, shhhh._

“He still has one more s-surgery to go, Ash!” Michael cries. “He’s not okay yet!”

_He will be. Give him a few weeks, and he’ll be back with us, writing songs and playing guitar, just like nothing ever happened. Everything is going to be fine, Michael. We’re gonna be fine._

“C-Can I just sit with you for a w-while…?” Michael whispers tearfully, already letting his head flop down onto my chest. “P-Please…I can’t go back in there…”

 _Of course, Mikey._

…

“Alright boys, I’m sorry to have to cut this short, but we do need to get Luke into surgery now.” Doctor Simmons comes into the room, smiling sadly at us. “Say your goodbyes, he’ll be out in an hour or so, if everything goes the way it’s been planned to.”

Michael sighs and nods, standing up, and going over to Luke’s beside, to wrap his arms around the boy and kiss his forehead gently. “I love you,” he murmurs again.

“Love you too, Mikey,” Luke says gently, grinning at Michael. Calum does the same, hugging Luke, before kissing his head. I step up to Luke’s bedside and wrap my arms around him as well, dropping my lips to his messy hair.

“You’ll be fine, Lucas,” Calum says softly. “You’ll be fine.”

The doctor starts to wheel his bed out of the room, and I watch Michael wave forlornly- the look in his eyes says he really wishes he could follow Luke and actually get into that bed with him.

I motion Michael over to me, and he comes back, sitting in my lap, and nuzzling his face into my neck. _Mikey…do you have a crush on Luke or something? It seems like you really like him…_

Michael turns a very point-blank shade of red, avoiding my gaze and looking down at his lap. “…m-maybe…the accident just made everything so much worse, because I fucking love him, and I doubt he feels the same way. Hell, he thinks I hate him, how could he ever love someone like me?”

_Mikey, you’ve told him you love him at least three times since we were allowed to see him- I think he gets the message- you don’t hate him, you love him. It’s kinda obvious. You’re not as rude to him anymore, and you don’t really talk to him very much. I really do think Luke feels the same, though…I’ve seen him look at you and Calum with jealousy in his eyes._

“He’s probably jealous of me,” Michael mutters.

“No, he’s jealous of me, Mikey,” Calum pipes up. “I’ve seen him glare daggers at me before, while we were cuddling- he wants to be the one that gets to cuddle you, I promise. He doesn’t love me like that, and I certainly have no romantic feelings toward him.”

“You sure?” Michael asks hoarsely. 

“I’m positive,” Calum says. “I don’t like him like that- I never have. I like someone else.”

“Who?!” Michael asks loudly. 

Calum blushes a very deep shade of red, shaking his head. “That’s for me to know, and for you _never_ find out.”

“Fuck you, Calum!”

…

It’s been over two hours, since Luke was taken into surgery, and we’ve heard nothing. 

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Doctor Simmons said the surgery would only take an hour, an hour and a half at most, so I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried as hell. There must’ve been some kind of complication, and fuck, I’m not ready for more bad news. Michael, Calum, and I have been through enough bad news- more would break us to pieces. I just want Luke to be okay.

Michael is lost at this point- muttering various scenarios to himself, thinking and assuming the worst. I don’t understand what’s going on- but he somehow thinks Luke is going to die, and I fucking doubt that’ll happen. He was awake and talking to us- how could he possibly die? 

I sigh, playing with my fingers, and staring at Calum. I don’t know what the deal is with me and him, but I think I’m starting to fall for him- I have been since the band practice. He’s so adorable, and I just wanna hold him until the end of time, and take away every ounce of pain he feels, because he deserves none of that- I just wanna make him feel better. 

I don’t know whether it’s true love yet, or just a strong liking for him. I really do like Calum- he’s different than Mikey and Luke- and it seems like he accepts me for who I am, and doesn’t care that I don’t talk and don’t plan on it. He seems to like me just the way I am- and that’s more than I can say for a lot of people. 

Interrupting my thoughts, Doctor Simmons walks out into the room. His scrubs are stained with patches of blood- and he looks exhausted, like he’s been through hell and back. This can’t be good news- it doesn’t bode well at all. 

He comes over to us, sighing heavily. “Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings- I know the surgery was only supposed to last an hour, and it did, his arm was fixed within an hour, but just as we were closing up and getting ready to finish up, we detected something in his brain- it seems that his head injury was much more seriously than we thought. When we took a closer look- we found that he was indeed bleeding in his brain, and the swelling and pressure it was putting on his injured side of the brain was extreme. We managed to stop the bleeding and stabilize him, but he has slipped into a coma because of the swelling and pressure…”


	30. Chapter 29

I don’t think I could be anymore terrified and in any more emotional pain, than I am in right now. 

Hearing that Luke is in a coma…that destroyed me. Hearing that the boy that I am in love with- is in a coma that he may not wake up from- that is absolutely horrendous to hear, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget hearing it. I don’t know what the hell all that medical shit means, all I know is that my baby is in a fucking _coma_ , and I’m unable to do anything about it. He may _never_ wake up, and I’ll never get to tell him how much I love him and care about him. 

It’s heartbreaking- the pain in my chest is too real. Everything hurts, but I feel numb at the same time. I don’t know what to think or feel- my emotions are absolutely out of control, at this point. I’m sitting in a corner of the hospital, a solitary corner. No one knows where I am- and frankly, that’s a good thing. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now- I don’t want comfort. I just wanna sit here and hurt and cry and think about how much I really love Luke.

I know that he’s strong, and I know that he’s a fighter. But these might be impossible odds- he was bleeding in his fucking brain, and he might not be able to recover from how much pressure and swelling that put on the part of his brain that’s concussed. The human body can only do so much, and I’m so fucking scared that Luke is going to give up- that his body is going to give out, and I’ll be left heartbroken and miserable, without him.

I don’t think I can live without him. It may seem like I hate him, but I’ve grown such an attachment to that blonde idiot- I don’t even know what to feel anymore. I know that I’m head over heels completely in love with him, and he most likely doesn’t even feel the same way. If he does, there’s no way he can tell me now. I just wish…I could’ve told him or showed him how I feel- I really just wish he knew. 

I want him to know that he is loved, he is needed, that people would die without him. I don’t think I’ll be able to go on. I might just end up killing myself, if he dies. And so what? No one would miss me. I doubt my father would care, and Ashton and Calum have each other. It’s obvious that Calum has feelings for Ashton- the boy makes it so damn obvious, yet the only person who hasn’t seen it is Ashton himself. 

Sighing to myself, I curl farther against the corner, tears streaking my cheeks. I just want Luke. I want Luke. I _need_ Luke.

…

“Michael?”

I look up, my tearstained eyes meeting Ben’s. His face is red and blotchy as well, and to be honest, he looks like a wreck as well- I wouldn’t be surprised if he felt like the scum of the fucking Earth right now, considering the bullshit he’s given his brother.

“Can I talk to you?” Ben asks softly. 

I sigh, motioning for him to sit down. He does so, leaning against the wall, and tilts his head back. That action reminds me so much of Luke- I can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes, and I just let them fall, not even caring if he sees me. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, at this point.

“I’m so sorry…” Ben says heavily. “I had no idea how fucking shitty I was being to him…I know that his anorexia is partly my fault, and you have no idea how guilty I feel…”

“If you’re expecting sympathy, don’t bother. He’s fucking skin and bones, because of you,” I growl, attempting to sound threatening, and not succeeding. 

“I know,” Ben mutters. “And I know there’s no way I’ll be able to take back any of what I said. But I just want you to know that I love Luke so fucking much- and I’m going to spend the rest of my life fucking groveling for his forgiveness. And yours, Michael.”

“Mine? What do you need me to forgive you for? You hurt Luke, not me.”

“I need to be forgiven by the boy my brother is head over heels in love for,” Ben says, a shadow of a smile peeking out onto his face. He sees my wide eyes and laughs. “Michael, don’t you know how hard Luke’s fallen for you? I can see it clearly- when we went to go see him, he _lit up_ when my dad mentioned your name. He loves you so fucking much, trust me. And I know you feel the same way.”

I sigh. “He’d never go for someone like me. And even if he does love me, he’s in a fucking coma- how is he gonna tell me that? What if he never wakes up? I’ll be left a heartbroken moron for the rest of my fucking life. I’m such a fucking idiot for even falling for him- and believing I could be his boyfriend one day.” 

“No, no you’re not. Luke loves you, Michael. I mean, the guy is fucking head over heels in love with you. You’re his sun and stars- he loves you so much. And once he wakes up, you’re gonna tell him that you feel the same way, and all will be good in terms of Muke.”

“I don’t think it works that way, Ben…it’s a lot more complicated than that.”

“Then uncomplicate things. Just do it. You’ll make both yourselves happy, if you do.”

…

Ben left me to think about everything, and I’m still sitting here and contemplating my feelings for the fucking blond with those damn blue eyes. God fucking dammit, why couldn’t I have fallen for someone else? I love Luke, I really do- he’s fucking irresistible. But sometimes, I just wish I had fallen for someone that I could be around, without my anxiety deciding to skyrocket. 

I hate being so nervous around him, but he makes my head race like a stallion at a horse race. He makes the butterflies come in my stomach- he makes my mind race, he makes me dizzy. He makes me a complete blathering idiot, and I regret nothing about it. I just wish I could tell him that, I just wish I could tell him that I fucking love him. That I’m truly, madly, deeply, foolishly and completely in love with him. I love him.

I’ll say it out loud. “I am in love with Luke Robert Hemmings.”

“You are, are you?” Calum limps into view, and my eyes widen. “Fuck…”

Calum grins at me. “I knew it. You didn’t even have to say it, Mikey, anyone with eyes can tell that you love Luke more than anything. He’s your everything, and it’s so fucking obvious. To be honest, I think it’s cute.”

“What if he doesn’t wake up, though?” I ask bitterly. “I’ll be a heartbroken moron for the rest of my life. I’ll never love again. I’ll die alone, in a house full of cats.”

“Stop being so damn overdramatic,” Calum chides. “You don’t know that Luke is going to die, and I fucking doubt he will. That boy is so fucking strong- he would _never_ leave you like this. He would never leave you alone and destitute, Mikey, I promise. He loves you so much, he’d never do that to you.”

“It’s not up to him. He’s not even in there, Cal! He has a serious head injury, hell, it’s possible for him to wake up and have no memory of who we are! And do you fucking know how much it’ll hurt, if he wakes up, only to ask who I _am_?! He’ll never love me, at that point. I should just give up now- I fucking doubt he’ll ever love me for who I am.”

“Stop it,” Calum growls. “Stop downgrading yourself. You are perfect, and Luke _does_ love you for who you dare. The boy is head fucking heels in love with you- _anyone_ can see it. Hell, Ben saw it, and he doesn’t pay nearly as much attention to Luke as he should. That means it’s obvious, Mikey.”

I sigh. “Fuck you.”

“You wouldn’t want Luke to wake up, and realize that you don’t love him, would you?”

“I do love him, though!” I cry. “I love him so much, I’m going fucking crazy!”

“Then prove it. If you get in there and talk to him, tell him everything, that might prompt him to wake up. They say that patients in comas can often hear what’s going on around them. So go in there and tell that boy you love him!”

“I doubt it’ll work…”

“Stop being such a fucking pessimist, and do it!”

…

“Uh…h-hi, Luke…I’m not sure what to say, because you probably can’t hear me anyways, and this is honestly one of Calum’s stupidest ideas yet, but it’s worth a shot. And I don’t have anything to lose, because you won’t remember any of this anyway, so here goes.” I take a breath. “I love you, Luke. I’m head over heels in love with you, so fucking crazy that I can’t even see straight. You’re my entire world- and it’s crazy that I’ve fallen for you so fast, in such a short time, but it’s true. I really just…I really just wish you were actually awake and talking to me, so I can know that you’re hearing ever word of this- because I doubt I’ll get the courage to ever do something like this again.”

“It’s just…so crazy, Luke. I thought I was in love with you after you showed up at my house, and actually proved that you do really care about me. And then it started to turn into something more. I started being ruder, just because I was so in love with you, and I was deathly afraid of you finding out. I didn’t want you to find out, not return my feelings, and ridicule me to the entire school.”

“And I guess everything got worse after the accident- it’s hard to believe that the accident was not even 24 hours ago…it’s like 3 or 4 in the morning, but I can’t sleep at all. I just wish I could be sleeping with you- when I’m with you, I’m happy. Everything is good. I feel like myself. I just…seeing you on the ground, unconscious and bloody…that’s an image that’s permanently ingrained in my mind, Lucas. It’s never going away. I’m never going to forget seeing your bloody body, lying on the ground like a piece of limp meat.”

“And at this point, I just want you to wake up, to open your eyes, and tell me that it’s okay. I wanna hear _you_ say it, not Ashton, not Calum, not Ben, _you_. Because if you say it, I’ll definitely believe it. I just wanna hear you say that I’ll be okay, that _we’ll_ be okay, and I’ll believe it. I would give anything to hear your voice again, Lukey…I’ve been watching our covers on YouTube, because it’s your fucking voice…and god, that calms me down so much…”

“I just…I miss you Lukey, and I love you so much. I wanna hug you and hold you so tight, no one can ever hurt you again. I wanna keep you safe from the world, and all the harshness it brings. I just want you back, Lukey…please come back to me, please…I’m nothing without you…” I’m sobbing now, tears running down my cheeks at a rapid rate. His good hand is clasped in mine, and I bring it to my cheek, rubbing my skin against his, hoping it’ll make me feel closer to him.

“I love you, Luke. I love you so fucking much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...you guys have every right to hate me. I don't even know how that happened, I don't even remember making it that sad and painful. I'm sorry? Next chapter, here's your one hint- Cashton, and a hell of a lot of it. Feedback would be awesome, thanks for reading.


	31. Chapter 30

It's a day, before Jack returns.

He stumbles into the waiting room, looking absolutely wrecked. He's unshaven, with tired, bleary eyes, and large purple circles underneath them. He looks like he hasn't showered in days, and more so- hasn't _eaten_ in a while. It's only been two days, so I can't say he's lost a significant amount of weight, but he definitely looks thinner.

He knows about Luke being in a coma, Ben texted him all the details- he didn't reply, but the 'read' notification on Ben's phone signifies that he did read and acknowledge the messages. I have no idea what his reaction is going to be, but from the looks of things- he’s nothing short of a wreck.

“Jack, mate, you alright?” Ben stands up, going over to his brother. He grabs his shoulder and looks Jack in the eyes. The younger sways on his feet, wobbling dangerously. 

“Shit.” Ben grabs him before he can fall, leading him over to a chair. I watch with wide eyes, as Ben plops him down into the seat beside the one Ashton and I are sitting in. 

“M’sorry, m’just dizzy,” Jack mutters. 

“When’s the last time you ate something?” Ben asks. He kneels down in front of his brother and forces him to look him in the eye. “You look like hell, bro.”

“Haven’t eaten since I stormed out…” Jack replies hazily. “We made Lukey starve himself, wanted to starve myself too, as punishment. Don’t deserve to eat, after what I did to Lukey…”

“Jack…it’s been two days since we got the news on Luke…you mean to tell me you haven’t had _anything_ to eat in two days?”

Jack nods. He seems to be more focused now, the pain in his eyes becoming much more prominent. “I hate myself so fucking much, for what we did to Lukey…he didn’t deserve that. I had no idea I was being such a dick…it was mostly me, not you…I deserve to starve for the rest of my life…”

“No, you don’t,” I cut in. “Just because you did something wrong, doesn’t mean that you deserve to starve for it. I don’t think Luke would want you to starve yourself- especially not willingly. He knows how much it hurts, how bad hunger hurts, and I doubt he’d wish it on anyone, especially his own brother.”

Jack sighs. “How’s Lukey? Is he doing any better?”

“No change,” I say hoarsely. “They’re monitoring him very closely- but he’s hooked up to a bunch of shit to help him breathe, feed him, there’s even a machine that breathes for him, if he can’t…”

“Oh god…this is so fucked up…” Jack mumbles, putting his head in his hands. “It’s not fucking fair, Lukey didn’t do anything to deserve this. If anything, it should be _me_ in that goddamn hospital bed…”

“Don’t say that,” Ben whispers. “It happened, and it’s over. We just need to pray to anyone fucking up there- that Luke will wake up. He’s strong. He’s gonna wake up, we just need to give him time.”

…

“I’m so fucking worried about Mikey…”

I sigh, letting my head flop back onto Ashton’s chest. “On my way back, I heard him start sobbing while talking to Luke…he’s definitely taking this the hardest of all of us…”

_He loves the guy, Cal…I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so in love with anyone else. He loves Luke so much, this entire thing is breaking him to pieces. I just wish there was something we could do…but we can’t. There’s nothing we can do- Luke is the only one who can fix him, at this point._

I nod against him. “I just…hate seeing Mikey so vulnerable and broken. I’ve never seen him cry as much as he has since the accident, and I really just wish Luke knew how much Michael loves him.”

_Mikey isn’t one to show his feelings openly- he hid his feelings toward Luke with anger, just because he didn’t want to accept them. He didn’t want to accept how much he loved- and still does love- Luke, so he was rude to him, in retaliation._

“It’s all just…confusing as fuck…”

Ashton’s phone vibrates, and his eyes widen, as he reads the text message. I hear him sigh heavily, as he replies, typing a long message out. He sends it after two minutes, and before slipping his phone back into his pocket, and exhaling heavily. Whatever’s going on at home- it must not be good, because his face has changed- I can see how stressed he is, just by his facial features. Exhausted eyes, a haggard appearance- he looks like he’s been through hell and back. 

“Was that your mum?” I ask. We really haven’t heard much about Ashton’s home life- but something tells me it’s far from good. Michael’s told us a few things, but not nearly everything. 

Ashton shakes his head grimly. _One of my best friends and bosses, Zayn. He’s home with my brother and sister now, and they’re asking for me…_

“I’m sorry, you should go home, it’s not right to keep you here for so long…” I say regretfully. I really don’t want him to leave. He’s been the only thing keeping me strong, keeping me from breaking- I don’t know what I’ll do without him- I have no one else. Michael is way too much of a mess to comfort me right now. 

_No way in hell, Cal. You need me to be here. My brother and sister will be fine, my friends are joining them at the house- they’ll keep them entertained. Everything’s okay, I just…I miss them, especially my baby brother. He makes me happy, and well, I could do with some of that, considering the situation…but my happiness doesn’t matter right now- you need me, so I’m here._

“T-Thank you, Ash…you’re just…I’m kinda relying on you right now, and I hate that I am, because I shouldn’t be, but I just…I don’t have anyone else. Michael is an absolute wreck, my sister is back at college, and my parents are fucking dickheads. I feel so fucking alone, and I hate that you’re the only reason I’m not completely alone. You’re amazing- but I wish I didn’t depend on you so much. And for the record, your happiness matters so fucking much, if not to everyone, to me.”

_Don’t ever feel guilty about needing me, Cal. You know I’ll always be there for you, whenever you need me. I’ll always come, if you call me. If you wanna ditch school, text me, and we can drive somewhere._

I smile. “That means a lot, thank you, love you.”

 _Love you too, Cal._ Ashton presses his lips to my head, and I lean my head against his chest, sighing to myself.

“I just want Luke to wake up…I don’t even know how any of this happened, but I really just need Luke to wake up. Michael needs Luke to wake up- I’m pretty sure he’ll fucking destroy himself, if Luke doesn’t wake up soon. He’s such a mess, Ash…”

_He’s gonna be okay. He won’t off himself. He’s scared that Luke will wake up, and he would’ve killed himself, so he won’t get to see him open his eyes again. And as long as he doesn’t try and kill himself, he’s okay for now. I mean, cutting isn’t the best way to deal with his problems, but it’s better than him committing suicide, that’s for sure._

“That’s very true…it’s just…he’s so fragile inside, I really hope this doesn’t break him for good. If Luke doesn’t wake up, Michael will never be the same again. He’ll never be the Mikey we’ve known, _ever_ again. He might actually kill himself, and I don’t think _either_ of us, is ready for something like that…”

Ashton sighs. _He’s stronger than he seems. He has a lot of common sense. Let’s just hope that’s enough for him not to do anything to himself. He wants to be here for Luke, if he does anything to himself, that chance will be gone before he knows it, and everything will be ruined. He knows that._

“What if it’s not enough?”

_It has to be, Calum…It has to be enough. He has to use Luke as his driving force, his only reason to keep fighting. It’s the only way he’ll win this battle- the only fucking way he’ll make it out alive. Luke is his only reason, and if he loves Luke as much as he says he does, he’ll be able to hold on for him._

“That’s a good point…he better be able to hold on, if not for himself, for Luke, at least. If he doesn’t hold on for Luke…if Michael dies, Ash…I might die too…I don’t know what I’ll do without my best friend…”

Ashton looks me in the eye. _Don’t you fucking dare. You are not dying, under any circumstance. I will fight to keep you here, because Cal, you’re so much more important tha you think you are…you’re so much more of a person than you think you are. You’re so fucking beautiful, and amazing, and I love you a lot._

“I love you too, Ashton, it’s just…hard. It’s really hard, sometimes, and I just wish I could end it for good. I wish I didn’t have so many reasons to stay, because quite frankly, I don’t want to stay anymore. I want to die, and be gone, with no trace left. I’m done with this world- all it’s done is cause me more pain than I ever imagined I want to die. I want to be fucking done. I hate feeling like this, but it is the truth.”

And then Ashton does something absolutely unexpected. 

He surges forward, and kisses me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Were any of you expecting that? Lol, there's your Cashton. I know I left this off at a cliffhanger, so I'll try and post the next chapter tomorrow morning before I leave for school. Anyway, thanks for reading- hope you enjoyed.


	32. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, so...this chapter's kinda weird, in terms of formatting. There are two sections of Calum's POV, and I did write in where they are- that's only because the next chapter is supposed to be in Michael's POV- though I might change in, make then next one Cal's, and make the one after that Mikey's, but either way, I wrote in where it is, so you're not confused.
> 
> Also- heavy trigger warnings in this chapter. Suicide and self-harm- please watch out. The entire chapter is very triggering, so if you're easily triggered, don't read it. 
> 
> Anyway- enjoy. It's an emotional roller coaster.

By the time I realize what I’m doing, I pull away from Calum hurriedly. He looks at me with wide eyes and opens his mouth to speak, but I shake my head, whirling around and bolting out of the waiting room as fast as my legs will take me. I run straight for the elevators, thanking god that one of them is empty. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Calum limping toward me, but the crutches are obviously hampering him. I hate using his injury to my advantage, but I start slamming my hand on the button to close the doors, watching as they slide shut right in front of his face.

I’m absolutely panicking- I have no fucking clue why I did that. I’m not ready, I wasn’t ready two months ago, and I won’t be ready any time in the future. I’m shaking furiously, trembling, as images flash in my mind- like frames in a movie. Flashbacks from that terrible night are starting to come back- and I curse my mind, trying to get it to shut up, but obviously, it doesn’t listen. 

The elevator doors finally open, and I dash out, running as fast as I can, adrenaline giving me speed. I race out of the hospital, ignoring shocked and concerned glances from the receptionist and nurses. I can’t breathe. I need to be alone. I need to calm down. I can’t fucking do this now.

The hospital has a grassy plain behind it, and there’s a trail, along with some benches. I sit down on one of the benches, breathing heavily. Trying to calm down my racing heart, I attempt deep breaths- but they do nothing to help. I just kissed Calum. I just kissed one of my friends. He’s going to hate me. He’s going to hurt me. I’m a stupid, gay, fucked up asshole. He’s gonna kill me, and then Mikey will kill me for hurting his best friend, and I’ll die. 

It’s not that I don’t like Calum, because I do. A lot. I think I might actually be in love with him. But even if he does feel the same way, it’s too soon…it hasn’t even been a year since the…incident…and when Calum finds out, he sure as hell won’t wanna date me. I mean, who would wanna date someone who’s had their virginity taken away by some random asshole? Who would want to be with a mute? Who would even _love_ someone like me? I don’t think it’s possible anymore, to be honest. I’m not going to be loved by anyone, ever. 

I’ve accepted it- no one will ever love the fucked up mess that I am.

…

Calum POV

I didn’t know it was possible to feel your heart breaking.

Then again, I’ve never been so harshly rejected before- I didn’t initiate the kiss, but Ashton ripped himself away from me like I was poisonous, and then ran off. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel like utter shit right now. I don’t know how to even react to something like this. Ashton doesn’t like me. He doesn’t like me the way I like him, at least. I love him, and I thought that when he kissed me, he felt the same way- but I guess I was wrong. I thought that maybe, we could become boyfriends, and he’d help me through my problems, while I helped him through his. That’s all gone to shit- it won’t ever happen. I won’t ever love again- I don’t want anyone other then him. Essentially, if I can’t have Ashton- I don’t want anyone. 

I may not have known him for very long- but he’s made me feel okay. He’s held me when I needed it, comforted me, wiped my tears, made me feel like it’s okay to have problems and it’s okay to hurt, and he’ll never judge me for something like that. He made me feel like life was worth living- that’s all gone to shit now. I don’t want to live anymore- and it’s all because he hates me, he rejected me, he wants nothing to do with me…and I want nothing to do with myself. I disgust him. I disgust myself. The world needs to be rid of my disgusting presence. All I do is cause problems. 

I’m a fucking problem.

I’ve never been so happy to have brought my blade. I pull it from my pocket, making sure the door of the bathroom stall is locked, before pulling up my shirt, and bringing it to my stomach.

…

“Ashton, what the fuck happened?” 

I look up at Michael, wiping tears from my cheeks. He looks pretty wrecked- anger and sadness lacing his face at the same time. He’s exhausted- the dark circles under his eyes are prominent- it’s obvious he hasn’t slept. 

_I don’t wanna talk about it._ I bury my head back in my knees, still leaning against the wood bench, with no intention of going back into that hospital. I have no intention of facing Calum anytime soon.

“Too bad,” Michael says. “You’re talking about it anyway. What the fuck happened, Ashton?”

_I kissed Calum._

Michael’s eyes widen. “You kissed him? Or did he kiss you?”

_I kissed him. I initiated it._

“Whoa…I need a minute,” Michael mutters. “Did he not kiss back, or…? What exactly is the problem?”

_I’m not ready! I’m not ready for a relationship yet! And I don’t even think he likes me, I ran off before he had a chance to say anything. Why would he love me anyways? I’m just fucked up and stupid and I have way too many problems._

“Stop that,” Michael says firmly. “You are beautiful- one of the strongest people I’ve ever had the honor of knowing. You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me- next to Luke, of course.” He blushes at that, and I force a small smile. “Either way, Ash. I’m pretty sure Calum does love you. I barely caught a glance of his face, and he was crying. He wouldn’t be crying, if he didn’t love you back.”

_I made him cry…fucking hell, I’m a horrible person. He’s too beautiful to cry. And you’re wrong- he’d never love someone like me._

Michael sighs. “I’ll be right back.” He gets to his feet, and walks off, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

…

“Alright, what’s the deal here? Why’s my Ashton crying?”

My head snaps up at Louis’ voice- and I just stare. No, he didn’t. Michael didn’t. He didn’t call them.

Sure enough, Louis and Zayn are walking toward me, both of them looking quite concerned and worried. I sigh, anger flaring up in me. More people to worry about me, god fucking dammit, can’t everyone realize that I don’t want more people worrying about me? I’m not worth being worried about. 

“Come here, you fucking idiot,” Louis mutters, pulling me into his arms, as he plops himself down on the bench. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?”

I inhale his scent and smile. Louis smells like coffee, cigarettes, and home. He smells just like home, and god, I’ve missed that smell. I hug him tightly, burying my face in his neck. 

“There there, shhhh,” Louis coos. “Z and I are here. Tell us what happened, baby.”

_I kissed Calum._

“Oh, Ash…” Zayn sighs. “You weren’t ready, were you? It was an impulse thing, yeah?”

_He was talking shit about himself, and I couldn’t stand him putting himself down, because I love him so fucking much, so I just…and then I ran away from him, guys…and Mikey told me he was crying and god fucking dammit, I’m a horrible person._

“You’re not a horrible person,” Louis reassures me. “You’re just scared. You were about to have a panic attack- I understand why you did what you did. Calum may not, and that’s because you literally ran out on him, but if you explain, he will.”

_Why would he ever want to be with someone like me? I was raped, guys. I’m disgusting and dirty and damaged, I’m used goods. No one wants used goods._

Zayn’s eyes darken. “Stop talking about yourself like you’re some goddamn product! Being raped has nothing to do with the person you are- the incident does _not_ define who you are as a person. You are not _used_ , you have never been used, and you will never _be used_. You are strong, beautiful, amazing, perfect- I could go on forever, but I won’t. My point is- you need to stop selling yourself short and give yourself some credit. You’re amazing, Ash.”

_I’m so fucking scared, guys. I don’t even know if he likes me back, and if he does…I don’t know if I’m ready for something like this. I don’t know if I can do this, I really don’t. I’m terrified._

Louis sighs. “Listen babe, I know you’re scared of getting into a relationship, because of what happened, but I fucking doubt Calum is ever going to be violent toward you- and if he ever is, call me, and I will beat his ass for you. But seriously speaking, that kid resembles a fucking puppy- he’d never hurt a fly. He’ll love you so much, Ash. He’ll treat you like a prince and love you so well, and that’s all you want, isn’t it? Someone to love you and take care of you and make you feel whole again?”

_Yeah, but…I don’t know, I have a bad feeling about this…_

“Why is being with Calum such a bad thing?” Zayn asks gently. “He’s such a sweet guy, he’ll treat you right, what are you worried about?”

_I’m semi worried about Harry and Lauren and not having time for them, not being able to be there for Michael, and not being about to come to work some days, shit like that…_

“Oh my god, Ashton,” Louis says exasperatedly. “Stop worrying about what everyone else wants. This isn’t about them. This is about _you_. Think about yourself for a minute. What do _you_ want?”

I consider for a moment, weighing my options. Be happy with Calum, have one positive in my life, or just go back to the misery and pain and torture. Needless to say, my decision comes easily. _I want to be happy. I want to be with Calum._

“There you go.” Zayn grins at me.

“Ashton, fuck!” Michael runs over to us, his eyes wide with fear, and his face red. He’s been pulling at his hair, and he looks panicked. “You have to go to Calum!”

“What’s wrong, Michael?” Louis asks.

“He’s about to kill himself, and he won’t listen to me! He only wants you, Ashton, you have to go! He’s cutting!”

“Go,” Zayn says firmly. “Go save him. Go tell him you love him. Go.”

And I do. The speed I’m running at rivals the speed I ran out of the hospital at, in my haste to save the boy I’m desperately in love with.

…

Calum POV

I’m so fucking done. 

It’s not just Ashton- it’s everything. Everything’s been building up for such a long time, and I’m finally ready to end it. I’ve finally hit my breaking point, hit rock bottom, whatever you wanna call it. I’m fucking done with this goddamn world and the people in it- I just want to die. I want to die, and I want to be forgotten. I don’t want anyone to remember me, cry over me, none of it. I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve to be remembered. I’m a shit person- I don’t want people to remember my name and who I was.

I feel nothing. 

Emptiness, loneliness, and hollowness cloud my emotions, pushing them away- making me completely indifferent to the world around me. It feels like I’m just _there_ , like I have no sole purpose in the world- and that hurts more than any injury. I’d honestly prefer to be stabbed in the heart- maybe that would hurt less than not feeling anything. I don’t even feel sadness anymore, and the prospect of losing every single emotion known to man is fucking _terrifying_ me.

If I don’t feel anything- there really isn’t any purpose for me in the world- there really isn’t any good reason why I should stay- after all, everyone would be so much better off without me, and I don’t know why I stay- why I remain here to make their lives purely miserable. It’s easy to make everything better- a slide of a blade, a fall off a roof, a swallow of a mere handful of pills. Committing suicide is not hard- and that’s what makes it so scary. I very well could kill myself- cutting too deep, but not meaning to.

I drop the hem of my shirt, aiming the blade over the soft skin of my left wrist instead. This is going to be the final cut- so why bother worrying about what people can see? Let them see this. Let them see every fucking cut I’ve left on my body, so they can know how badly this world has damaged me.

I’m about to sink the blade into my skin, when I hear footsteps.

…

My body hurts from all the running I’ve done, but I don’t care.

I need to get to Calum before it’s too late. I cannot let him kill himself. I need to save him.

I run into the bathroom, and in the last stall- the handicapped one, I can see a pair of silvery crutches on the floor. I rush over to the door, expecting it to be locked, but surprisingly, it swings open as soon as I pull on it.

My heart absolutely _shatters_ at the sight before me.

Calum is sitting on the toilet, tears streaking his cheeks and dripping onto the collar of his shirt. His eyes are bloodshot, and his hair is a mess. But what really concerns me, is the blade- covered in wet blood- the blade he’s holding to the baby soft skin on his wrist. 

He doesn’t even look at me, as he brings the blade closer and closer.

And I scream. “CALUM, NO! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go- after thirty chapters, Ashton has finally spoken. Next chapter is most likely gonna be the aftermath, aka a lot of fluffy Cashton- comments would be lovely, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed.


	33. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I switched it up- this chapter is Calum's POV, next will be Mikey's. I couldn't just leave it off at the cliffhanger last chapter had, so there you go.
> 
> You'll love this, it's entirely Cashton and pretty adorable, if I do say so myself. Enjoy.

Ashton just spoke.

Ashton just _screamed_.

In my shock, I drop the blade, watching it clatter to the ground. I bend to grab it again, but before I have the chance to, I’m being wrapped in one of the tightest hugs I’ve ever been in.

Ashton winds his body around mine, slipping one of his arms behind my back, and the other under my knees. He lifts me up, sitting down on the toilet, and holds me in his lap. Multiple kisses are being pressed to my hair, as I take in the stray tears on his cheeks. I must’ve scared him so badly…I can’t believe I did that to him. I never wanted him to find out- I never wanted to hurt him like this.

“Ashton, I…”

Ashton shakes his head and shushes me, hugging me tighter. When he finally deems himself ready to loosen his grip on my body, he leans in and presses his lips to mine. I kiss him back gently, confused as hell- but I’m going along with it. Ashton doesn’t deepen the kiss at all- pulling back as soon as he runs out of breath, and then looking at me sadly. 

“As much as I loved that…” I say. “You spoke…Ashton…I thought you didn’t speak…?”

Ashton smiles weakly. “I don’t speak because I choose not to. It’s called being a selective mute- I did speak just fine until almost a year ago- I just chose to stop. It was entirely my decision- people protested, but I stuck to it.” His voice is somewhat hoarse and rough from disuse, but his accent is thick and heavy- it just makes me feel further in love with him. 

“What happened, Ash? Why did you stop talking…?” I ask, not attempting to press him, but wanting to know what’s happened.

Ashton flinches and shakes his head. “That’s a story for another time…we need to talk about your…suicide attempt…and what just happened…” He still seems very nervous and shaky, and I hug him tighter, lifting my chin to press my lips to his messy hair.

“Do you like me, or did you do that because I was shitting on myself?” I mumble, staring at our shoes. 

Ashton lifts my chin and looks into my life. “I don’t like you.” My face falls, but he continues speaking. “I _love_ you, Cal. I love how you accepted me from the moment we met, I love how adorable and cuddly you are, I love how much you care about Mikey, how you knocked some sense into him about Luke…I love you, Calum. I may have not known you for long, but I really do love you.”

His words warm my heart, but I still do have one burning question. “Why did you run away from me?”

Ashton sighs heavily. “I just…panicked…I’m sorry, I have bad anxiety, and I was so scared you’d reject me. I didn’t mean to even kiss you…you were just talking about how much you hate yourself, and I couldn’t stand hearing it, because I love you, so I just…”

He looks really pained- I don’t want to press him anymore. I hug him again, kissing his cheek. “It’s okay, Ash. You don’t have to go on, I understand. It’s okay.”

Ashton smiles gratefully at me, but then he glances at my abdomen. “Cal, you’re bleeding…”

Wincing, I look down at my shirt, and see the patches of crimson beginning to appear through the fabric of my grey shirt. Ashton doesn’t look surprised- he just exhales a heavy breath and lifts the hem of my shirt.

When he sees the still bleeding cuts, he says nothing, slipping out from under me, and leaving the stall. Emptiness fills my chest- the prospect of him actually leaving me heavy in my mind. My fear is calmed, however, when Ashton returns with a couple of damp paper towels. 

He kneels in front of me, and wordlessly begins to clean my wounds, until all the traces of blood are gone. When he’s done, he pats my skin dry, before nodding- signifying that I can let my shirt down. I do so, and he puts the towels aside, looking up at me sadly.

“I won’t tell you to stop, because then I’d be a hypocrite…but please, try? I know it’s hard, and I know you’re going through a lot, but I can’t lose you. I can’t, Cal. You’re gonna hurt me so bad if you die…” He whispers. 

That obviously reveals that he cuts himself as well- but I don’t want to make a big deal out of it right now, he’s already upset and stressed, I don’t want to make it any worse for him.

I open my arms, and Ashton smiles shyly, before sitting down on my lap. When I realize how light he is- another warning of alarm goes off in my mind. “Ash, babe, you’re so light…are you eating properly?”

Ashton visibly pales, looking at me with terrified and innocent eyes. “I…I eat when I can…”

“When you can…?”

“When there’s enough food for me to…” Ashton chokes out, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry, I’m not starving myself, my mum just…she doesn’t work very much, she gets drunk a lot, and I work to buy food for me and my brother and sister…but sometimes, when there’s not enough for all three of us to eat, I give everything to them…” He shoves his head into my shoulder, whimpering softly. “Don’t yell, don’t get mad, please…”

“Oh my god, baby…” I hug him as tight as possible, running a hand through his hair and rubbing his back. “Shhh, don’t cry, Ash, no….you’re okay, I promise. You’re fine, babe, I’ve got you.”

“It’s so fucking hard, Cal…” Ashton cries. “I’m so stressed and so tired and I feel dizzy and faint all the time and I just wanna die…”

“Shhhh,” I murmur. “Just relax, you’re okay now, I promise. I’m here, and I am never leaving you.”

…

Ashton and I walk out of the bathroom hand in hand- well, I’m using one of my crutches, and Ashton is supporting my other side- only to be pounced on by Michael, two other guys I really don’t know behind him. The guys behind him look older- they’re definitely out of high school. One of them has dark black hair, matching the color of the stubble growing on his chin. He has a bunch of tattoos covering his arms, many of them looking like writing in a different language. He looks Indian or Pakistani from his skin tone and overall appearance- I’m confused as to how he knows Ashton. The other guy has messy chestnut colored hair, and kind blue eyes. He too has tattoos covering his arms, along with a bunch of bracelets. He’s clean-shaven, looking very worried as the three of them near us.

“What’s the deal with you two now?” Michael asks, motioning to our joined hands. 

“We’re together,” I reply. 

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend,” Ashton adds, and I watch all three of their jaws drop at his words.

The dark-haired guy reacts first. “Ashton you just…holy shit…are you talking again…?”

He holds out his arms, and Ashton glances at me shyly, before pulling his hand out of mine, and taking a step into the other guy’s arms. The brown-haired guy wraps himself around the hugging two, both of them suffocating Ashton in a tight embrace.

When they finally release him, Michael drags Ashton into a tight hug, ruffling his hair and pressing kisses to the top of his hair. He murmurs something in his ear, and Ashton nods, replying softly. I watch the smile grow on Michael’s face, as he hears Ashton speak again.

Ashton finally makes his way back over to me, grabbing my hand again. He motions to the two unfamiliar guys in front of us. “Cal, these are my friends and bosses, they run the coffee shop I work at. The guy with the dark hair is Zayn, and the guy who looks like he’s a five year old in a 22 year old’s body is Louis.”

Louis grumbles and slaps Ashton’s arm, yelping when Ashton hits him back playfully. “You’re such a pain in my ass,” Louis mutters. 

“I thought Harry was the _real_ pain in your ass?” Zayn cuts in. Louis’ cheeks darken fiercely, and he growls at Zayn.

“Fuck off, will ya?” 

“Harry is Louis’ boyfriend,” Ashton explains. “And Zayn is dating a guy named Liam.”

I nod in acknowledgement, squeezing Ashton’s hand tightly. 

“Ahem,” Louis coughs. “The introduction of us to your guy friend was quite lovely, aren’t you gonna introduce us to him?”

“I was getting to that, you prick,” Ashton replies. “Guys, this is my boyfriend, Calum.”

“Oooooh, boyfriend,” Louis says, grinning at us. “Ash, go with Michael. Z and I wanna talk to Calum.”

“No, no you don’t. You’re not giving him that goddamn big brother lecture,” Ashton groans, holding tighter to my hand. “Spare him.”

Zayn smiles. “Sorry, no can do. Get your ass outta here, before we put you through the embarrassment of having to hear the entire thing.”

Ashton sighs, turning to me. “Pay no attention to what either of them say, they’re extremely overprotective and it gets to be too much, sometimes.” He fixes his friends with a glare. “If you scare him, I’m going to make _sure_ Harry and Liam refuse to kiss either of you for a month. I’m warning you.”

And with that, Michael wraps an arm around his shoulders and practically drags him out of the room.

“Calum, I’m pretty sure you’re already intimidated by us both, so we won’t try and terrify you even more,” Zayn says gently. “We did really wanna talk to you, though…come over to the bench, yeah?”

I nod hesitantly, following them- limping badly because of the lack of one crutch. I sit down, and they sit next to me, glancing at me.

“First off, what happened, mate?” Louis asks. “Your foot…”

“Bad sprain.” I smile ruefully. “I rolled it playing football.”

“Aw damn, mate, I know how that feels,” Louis replies, sympathy in his eyes. “I play football, not on a team or anything, but I played for your school, when I went to your high school.”

“Anyway.” Zayn dismisses Louis’ statement easily. “Calum, we’re not trying to scare you away. We just want you to be careful. Ashton is very fragile…something happened in the past, something that scarred him, that’s why he ran out on you. He didn’t think he was ready for something like this- and he’s very scared and very nervous, so please, don’t rush him into anything.”

“I would never, I know how it feels to be pressured, I’m not going to do any of that- I’ll go as slow as he’s comfortable with.”

“Good.” Louis nods. “And…sex. Making out. Either of them…don’t expect it to happen anywhere in the near future, if at all. Like Zayn said, something happened in his past, something he’ll tell you about when he feels the time is right- he’s not ready for that. Even if he says he is, he’s not. He’s going to want to try, for your sake- do not let him. He’s just gonna hurt himself, and no one wants that.”

“What we’re trying to say is…just take care of him, okay? He’s our baby brother, we love him with everything we’ve got. He’s had to grow up so fast- he’s under a lot of stress and exhaustion, so please be careful,” Zayn tells me softly. “We’ve got his best interests in mind.”

“I will, I promise. I’d never dream of hurting him.”

“And you know we have to give the obligatory older brother speech- so here it is. If you make Ashton cry, hurt him in any way, cause him an _ounce_ of pain,” Louis says, attempting to sound threatening. “We’ll cause you the same amount of pain you’ve caused him, if not more. And that’s a promise.”

“I won’t hurt him. I swear on my life- I’d kill myself before I ever think of hurting him.”


	34. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this chapter is pretty emotional, just a warning. Enjoy.

I’m so fucking confused.

“What happened, Ash? Did you just start speaking randomly, or…? Because when I last saw you, before you ran in here to see Cal, you didn’t have any intention of talking, and now…” 

Ashton forces a smile. “When I got into the bathroom, specifically to Cal’s stall…he had a blade over his wrist, and he was about to make the final cut. There was no time for me to type up a long ass message on my phone, and no guarantee he’d even read it, before he cut himself. I had to get over my fear.”

“You don’t need to rush into anything.” I look him in the eye, placing my hands on his shoulders. “You’re doing amazing, Ash. You don’t need to rush into speaking again- you can just talk to me, Cal, Z, Lou, maybe their friends, and possibly Harry and Lauren?”

“Definitely Haz and Loz,” Ashton corrects. “They’ve been wanting to hear my voice for so long- I can’t not include them. I’m gonna have to get over my fear at some point in time, may as well start now.”

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” I say, my voice catching in my throat. “You’re doing so well, I’m so proud. I love you so much.” 

“Mikey, don’t cry…” Ashton murmurs, pulling me in for a hug. He kisses the top of my head, holding me as close as possible. “You’re gonna get better too, Mike. I promise. I’ll help you.”

“No, I’m not…” I whisper. “Lukey’s in a coma and I don’t know what to do! I need him, I can’t do this by myself!”

“Shhhh,” Ashton coos. “You’re gonna be okay, calm down. It’s gonna be alright, I promise. Relax for me, okay?”

I hiccup against his chest, letting my tears soak into the fabric. 

The clicking sound of crutches is heard- and I lift my head, turning just in time to see Calum limping toward us, Zayn and Louis following close behind. Louis has a hand hovering over the younger’s back, making sure he doesn’t trip and fall.

Ashton tenses, almost torn- between continuing to comfort me, or going over to his boyfriend. I sigh, shaking my head, and pull away from him. “Go to Cal, you idiot. I’ll be okay.”

“Sure?” Ashton looks nervous, and I nod, practically pushing him over to Calum. I watch, my heart warming, as Ashton makes his way over to his injured boyfriend, wrapping his arms around Calum’s waist. 

He hugs him tightly, whispering in his ear, and Calum nods. Ashton helps him over to the chairs, intending for Calum to sit down on his lap, but Calum holds up a hand, turning to me.

“Hug?” He pouts at me, opening his arms, Ashton still holding tight to his waist to keep him from falling.

“Of course, Cal,” I reply, rising to my feet. I lean over and taking him into my arms, holding him as tight as I can, kissing his hair. “You’ll be okay? You fucking scared us…”

“I know, I’m sorry…” Calum mumbles. “But I have Ash now, and I think I’m gonna be okay…”

“You have to be…” I whisper. “I might lose Luke, I can’t lose you too..”

…

As happy as I am for Calum and Ashton, the sight of them is starting to nauseate me. 

Luke is still in a coma, and seeing them act all cuddly and coupley is starting to seriously hurt…it’s not fair that _they_ get to be a couple and have each other and be happy, while I’m sitting here alone. The person I love is in a fucking coma, and I don’t even know if he loves me back, and that fucking kills me. I just want my Lukey to wake up. 

Sighing, I get up and leave the waiting room, walking the now familiar path to Luke’s hospital room. I walk right in- knowing that no one will be there. Andy and Liz had to go to work, Jack is still being fucking ambiguous, and Ben needed a break from the hospital atmosphere. As for me- I haven’t left since the accident- it’s been almost four days- and I won’t leave this hospital until I’m leaving with Luke beside me. 

“Hi, Lukey,” I say, sitting down in the chair next to his bed. “It’s been a couple hours, and I thought you might like some company.” Talking to him like he can actually hear me sounds stupid, and it probably is, but I’m doing it more for me than I am for him. It’s a comfort thing- a way to feel close to him. 

“Calum and Ashton are dating now, and they’re really cute together. It’s obvious that they love each other, and I’m really happy for them, but I just…I wish you would wake up, Lukey. I love you so fucking much and I really need you, and I want to be happy like they are. I wanna have one source of happiness in my life- I wanna feel better. I need you, Lukey.”

Fuck it, I’m already crying, tears dripping down my cheeks rapidly. I make no move to wipe them away, just grabbing Luke’s good hand and bringing it up to my face. 

“I hate purging so fucking much. I hate having to stick my fingers down my throat and force myself to throw up everything I eat. But there’s no other way, is there? I can’t do it any other way. If I stop eating, like you did, people are definitely gonna get suspicious. If I throw it all up, I should be okay, and no one will ever know. But it fucking hurts, Lukey…and I hate it so much. I hate that I’ve started seeing blood in the toilet- I hate that my mind won’t stop terrorizing me about how fat I am…I just hate it all so fucking much.”

Shivering slightly, I press my lips to his hand. “I…I’m sorry, Lukey…I’m so sorry…” 

The tears come before I can stop them, an overwhelming amount of emotion burning in my chest. I’m crying hard by now, sobbing to myself, wondering why the hell life hates me so fucking much. What the fuck did I do to deserve this? I just want Luke back, that’s all I want at this point. I don’t care about anything else, I just want to tell him everything. I want him to know how much I need him and love him. 

“Oh my god, Michael!”

I barely hear the voice, and even when I do detect it, I ignore it, pushing my chair closer to Luke’s bed, trying to hide my face as much as possible.

I feel my chair being turned, and a hand lifts my chin. I’m staring into the eyes of Louis- I’m surprised, definitely. I don’t know him very well- just through Ashton. I’ve never really talked to him like this. 

“Ashton and Calum are kinda busy, Ash asked me to come in and check on you…are you okay?” Louis asks gently.

I open my mouth to answer, but he beats me to it. “Shit, that was a horrible question to ask. You’re really not okay, that’s obvious. But I know Luke is going to wake up. He’s going to come back to you- that’s a promise. His body just needs time to heal itself, before he wakes up.”

“If he wakes up,” I correct bitterly. 

Louis shakes his head. “I know he will, and you wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because- though I may not know you guys very well- it’s obvious that you really love him, and he returns your feelings. He wouldn’t leave you like this. He’s stronger than you think, Michael. He’s going to wake up, and you and him will eventually become like Ashton and Calum. Just give him some time, let him heal and get all better for you.”

“I don’t know whether I can wait any longer, Louis…I’m going fucking insane…”

“I know you are, I know how it feels, Michael.” Louis smiles ruefully. “Harry was in a car accident about two years ago, it was pretty bad, he was in a coma for almost two weeks. Put me through hell and back, that fucking twat. And we were dating at the time.”

“How did you cope?” 

“Well, I basically was in your exact situation. Liam and Zayn were being the most irritating, nauseating, coupley shits ever, and at first, I just wanted to scream at them. But then I figured out that it wasn’t fair. Just because my boyfriend was in a coma, didn’t mean they shouldn’t be allowed to be happy. I did ask them to tone it down around me, though- which I’m sure you can ask Calum and Ashton to do, they’ll definitely agree.” His smile fades slightly. “I used to cut, Michael. Harry and Zayn are the only ones that know- Ashton doesn’t even know. And well…my cutting got really bad around the time Harry was in a coma…”

“But then I realized, that if Harry was conscious, and if he could see me putting myself through hell, he’d be the saddest person ever. He’d pout and his eyes would start to water and his cheeks would eventually become red and blotchy, and he’d choke out, in that tear-filled, broken voice, ‘please, Lou. you’re hurting me when you do that, you need to stop. please.’ And I couldn’t stand to see that, so I forced myself to stop cutting. I forced myself to shower and eat and take care of myself, because I knew that’s what he’d want. And eventually, things started to look up. Eventually, I started to have hope that he’d wake up, and one day, he did.” Louis sighs, using his thumb to brush tears off my cheeks. “You don’t have to do this to yourself, Michael. Luke wouldn’t want you to purge and cut and cry like you have been.”


	35. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...one thing to say. I have no knowledge of any medical procedures, or how any of that shit works- if anything is medically inaccurate, let's just say I'm using my creative license. Additionally, there is a lot of talk of self-harm in this chapter, be careful. Enjoy. Something tells me you guys will be happy about the ending.

I’m so fucking worried about Michael.

“Do you think he’s okay? He looked really upset when he left…” I ramble on, looking at Calum and Zayn for answers.

Zayn sighs. “Lou’s got it, Ash. If he isn’t okay, Louis knows exactly how to keep him calm, he’s going to be fine. Lou’s a good person to talk to- he’s been in Michael’s situation before, he knows how to cope with it. Michael’s in good hands, I promise.”

“Wait a second…how does Lou know what he’s going through…?” I ask, staring at him. “What the fuck happened?”

“I thought he told you, shit…” Zayn mutters. “You don’t know about Harry’s car accident, do you?”

“Harry was in a car accident?” I’m absolutely shocked about this- I had no idea that Louis understands this more than I thought he did…

Zayn nods grimly. “Two years ago. He was hit head on by a drunk driver, it really messed him up. Put him in a coma for two weeks. Lou was an absolute wreck. He didn’t eat, barely slept, didn’t even wanna leave the hospital to shower. He was insistent on not leaving until Harry could come with him.”

“Oh my god…” I whisper. I know Louis is in love with Harry, but I didn’t realize they’ve been dating for over two years. And I certainly had no idea that Louis spent the time Harry was in a coma destroying himself- just like what Michael’s doing. They’re really very similar- the only difference is that Michael and Luke aren’t dating, and Harry and Louis were.

“We didn’t know you very well at the time, Ash,” Zayn explains. “It was when you first started working for us. Remember? Louis was never at the shop, it was always me. He was at the hospital. And god, the poor lad fucking tore himself apart the entire time. Harry’s done so much for him- Harry’s been there through everything. He’s not just Lou’s boyfriend- he’s his best friend, the only person that’s been with him through every single thing in his life.”

“I knew they were really close, but…” I trail off, glancing at the floor. Calum pulls me closer- I assume he doesn’t want to contribute to the conversation, since he doesn’t know Harry and Lauren very well.

“Haz is actually on his way here,” Zayn tells me. “Lou wanted him here. Liam and Niall are with your brother and sister, don’t worry. But I think…talking about the accident…Louis just wants to be reassured that Harry’s perfectly fine and shit.”

“Understandable.” I nod. “When’s he gonna be here?”

“Right now.”

I glance up, and Harry’s standing in front of us, hands shoved into his pockets. “Hey, Harry.” I get off Calum’s lap, moving forward to hug him. Harry hugs me back gently, and when he pulls away, he’s not smiling anymore.

“I heard your guys’ conversation…” he mutters. “Those two weeks…I wasn’t conscious for any of them, but I got the story from Zayn, Liam, and Niall…Niall was Louis’ go to person, because the other two pricks couldn’t keep their goddamn hands off each other, and all that did was make Lou miss me more.”

Zayn smiles sheepishly. “We toned it down for him…”

“He needed me,” Harry replies. “Either way, even if you two didn’t touch each other for those two weeks, he’d still be jealous because you _had_ each other, and he didn’t have me.”

“This is adorable and all, but Ash, mind introducing me to him?” Calum asks from behind me.

I help Calum up, an arm wrapping around his waist to keep him upright. “Harry, this is my boyfriend, Calum. Cal, this is Harry, Louis’ boyfriend. You’ll meet Liam and Niall soon enough- Liam is Zayn’s boyfriend. Niall is straight, but he’s also single.”

“And he has been for almost four years!” Zayn calls.

“Don’t let him hear you say that, he’ll beat your ass,” Harry warns, chuckling. 

“I’ll send Liam after him.”

“Good luck with that.” Harry scoffs. “Now guys, wanna lead me to where Michael and Louis are?”

“Sure.” I hand Calum his crutches, and we begin the walk to Luke’s room, Harry and Zayn following close behind. 

…

When we get to Luke’s room, the four of us go inside- not bothering to knock or anything like that. The door is slightly ajar anyway- I doubt they’ll mind.

The sight breaks my heart.

Michael is sobbing into Louis’ shirt, gripping onto him tightly. Louis- teary-eyed and saddened- is rubbing his back and murmuring into his ear, trying to calm him down. He glances up at us, and his eyes widen when he sees his boyfriend. Glancing down at Michael, a conflicted expression makes itself present. I see his dilemma, he really wants to hug Harry, but he has Michael crying on his chest at the same time.

“I’m coming to you, don’t worry.” Harry grins at him, walking over and kneeling down, kissing Louis’ cheek gently. Michael raises his head, looking at us pitifully.

“Oh…s-sorry…” he mumbles, seeing Harry. “I’ll move…” He gets to his feet, stumbling over to me and resting his head on my shoulder. I wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close and kissing the side of his head.

“It’s okay, Michael, don’t worry about it,” Harry reassures him. “He knows what it’s like, he gets it. I put him through hell and back, when this happened to me.”

“You sure did, you fucking twat,” Louis says hoarsely. 

“Oh Lou…” Harry holds his arms open, and Louis melts into them, burying his face in Harry’s neck. Harry rubs his back gently, hugging him as tight as possible. “Michael, see, when something like this happens, it brings people closer… Like, Lou and I are so much closer now, now that he knows what it’s like to come very close to losing me.” Louis whimpers at that, and Harry sighs, hushing him gently. “It’ll bring you and Luke closer too.”

“I love him,” Michael whispers. “I love him so much, and I just want him to know that.”

“And you can tell him, when he wakes up,” Zayn says softly. “It’s not going to be forever. He’s been a coma for over a week- give him some time, he’s gonna come back.”

“I’m so lost without him…I don’t wanna live, if he’s not living with me…”

Louis lifts his head from Harry’s shoulder and stares into Michael’s eyes. “I know how much it hurts. And I know how shitty it feels. But you can’t off yourself, Mike. You need to hang on- Luke would want you to. Imagine him waking up, only to be told you’d kill yourself. That’s what kept me going. Haz would’ve been absolutely heartbroken, if he woke up and found out I was dead.”

“Heartbroken is an understatement,” Harry confirms. “I know how much you love Luke- hang on for him.”

Calum puts a hand on Michael’s other shoulder. “They’re right, Mikey. Luke loves you. We all love you, we’re here, we’ll help you through this. You don’t need to do this alone- you’re not alone. You’ll never be alone.”

“I just wanna hug him…I wanna hug him so fucking tight and never let him go…” Michael whispers. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” I tell him firmly. “None of this is ever going to be your fault. We love you so fucking much, we’re here.”

“Come talk to me, Mike,” Louis offers. “Whenever you feel especially shitty, and need an escape. I know how to cope- I’ll show you what I did to help. Once I stopped cutting, I had to figure out new ways to cope- shit. Fucking hell, it slipped out, fuck…”

“C-Cut?” I stutter, staring at him. “You used to cut yourself…?”

Louis gazes back at me, almost frozen. Harry sighs, answering for him. “His high school years were pretty shit, Ash. He started when he was fourteen, and it was on and off until he stopped while I was in a coma. It’s been two years, he’s two years clean, and I’m making sure he doesn’t relapse. It’s okay. He’s gonna be okay.”

“Lou, I…I had no idea…”

“Because I didn’t want to tell you,” Louis mutters. “Haz and Zayn were the only ones I told. I didn’t want you to know, because you’d accuse me of being a hypocrite, when I told you not to do it. Staying clean is hard. Quitting cold turkey is agonizing. But I did it, didn’t I? And if I can quit cold turkey, all three of you can stop cutting. And I’m looking at you, Michael, and Calum.”

…

Louis and Harry went out into the waiting room- Louis is still a little upset, remembering the shit from Harry’s coma has taken its toll on him, and Harry just wanted to sit with him and calm him down. Zayn went with them, but he decided to go back home and check in on Haz and Lauren, and maybe help Liam and Niall make something to eat- neither of them can cook for their lives. Calum’s parents forced him home, and that was kinda shitty of them, but I couldn’t do much about it. We’re texting, so that’s good.

I’m just sitting with Michael, well, he’s sitting on my lap and holding Luke’s hand. He hasn’t said anything in a while, just rubbing his fingers over Luke’s skin and occasionally kissing his fingers.

My phone beeps with another text from Cal, and as I start to answer it, I feel Michael stiffen in my arms.

“A-Ash…his fingers just moved…”

Holy fucking shit, did I hear him correctly? I abandon my phone, staring intently at Luke’s form.

“Lukey,” Michael says tearfully. “If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.” He waits for a few moments, and then lets out a squeal. “He squeezed it! I felt it! Ashton, he’s waking up!”

“Come on Luke,” I whisper. “You can do this. Just open your eyes for us.”

“I love you, Lukey.” Tears are already streaming down his cheeks, as he begs Luke. “Please, open your eyes.”

Luke groans, stirring slightly, and Michael stiffens. “Lukey? Baby, can you hear me?”

“M-M-Mikey?”


	36. Chapter 35

Luke’s eyes are open.

Luke’s eyes are fucking _open_. 

He’s looking at me- expression laced with pain- but he’s _awake_. I’m just staring, disbelief flooding through me, as I stare at his form. I can almost _see_ Ashton grinning behind me, as his grip on my body begins to loosen.

“Lukey, oh my fucking god…” I whisper, reaching out to touch his cheek. He smiles weakly at me, squeezing my hand tightly.

“H-Hi, Mikey…” His voice is hoarse and rough with pain- but it’s his voice, and the mere two words do wonders to calm me down. I know it’s barely been a week, but I’ve fucking missed his voice. It’s been ten days since I’ve heard it- I’ve missed it so fucking much. I’ve missed _him_ so fucking much.

“I’ll get the doctor,” Ashton announces, slipping out the door.

Luke’s eyes widen. “He’s talking…? When the fuck did that happen?”

“A day or two ago,” I reply, not moving my gaze from him. “That’s not important now. Lukey, oh my god…you scared me so fucking bad…”

Luke forces a smile. “I heard you, earlier. When you were talking about purging and cutting, and when Louis and Harry were trying to knock some sense into you. They were right, Mikey. I hate the thought that you’ve been hurting yourself- and it’s because of me.”

“I love you,” I say breathlessly, not bothering to wait. “I wanted to tell you…but then this happened, and I just…I really fucking love you, and I need you, you mean so much to me. I’m so sorry for being rude, I didn’t mean any of it…I was just doing it because I love you so fucking much, and I didn’t think you felt the same way…”

Luke rolls his eyes. “You didn’t catch the glares? You didn’t see how much I wanted to elbow Cal aside, and cuddle with you myself? All those times I saw you kissing his forehead and hugging him and cuddling with him, I was pissed. I wanted that to be me, I wanted to be the one receiving the brunt of your affection.”

“Cal told me that…I guess I didn’t really believe him…” I trail off, looking at Luke sheepishly.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Michael,” Luke chides. “But you’re my fucking idiot.”

“What does this make us…?” I ask softly.

“Whatever you want us to be,” Luke replies. “I was hoping we could be boyfriends…if that’s okay with you. I love you, Mikey, and I know that I really hurt you. I want the chance to make everything better, if you’ll grant me that.”

He looks at me hopefully, and I nod, smiling at him. I can’t say no to that face- he looks fucking adorable. Even with how banged up and broken he is, he looks fucking beautiful.

The door bangs open, and a slew of people join us in the room. Doctor Simmons immediately joins me at Luke’s bedside, smiling down at Luke. “Hey there, Luke. I need to give you a quick checkup, make sure everything’s alright, and then I’ll leave you alone. That sound alright?”

“Can Mikey be here when you do everything?” Luke requests adorably, looking at her with big, round eyes.

She laughs. “Of course, honey. But before I do anything- you have some friends that are very excited to greet you, I’ll give you guys a half hour, and then I really need to do that checkup.”

“That’s perfect,” Luke replies. She nods, leaving quietly, and letting Calum and Ashton come up and take her place.

“Lukey…” Calum whispers, leaning down and kissing his forehead. “You scared us…we love you so much…you put Mikey through hell, you know?”

“You really did,” Ashton adds. “But this is the first time I’ve seen him smile so much, since the accident. Hell, he hasn’t eaten very much, hasn’t showered, and barely slept, this entire week. Yell at him for us, will ya? Because apparently you’re the only person he’ll listen to.”

Luke shoots me a glare. “You fucking _dumbass_. Louis was exactly right. How the hell do you think I feel, realizing that you’ve done _shit_ to take care of yourself, and it’s because of me?”

I smile sheepishly, and he reaches up with his good hand, thumping my forehead. “That’s for being an idiot.”

“Good to have you back, Luke,” Harry says from the doorway. “You don’t really know me, I’m Harry. This is Louis and Zayn.” He points to each boy in turn, and Luke nods.

“Likewise. Thanks for knocking some sense into my moron of a boyfriend.”

“Wait, boyfriend?” Calum asks. “Hasn’t even been an hour since he woke up, and you two have already become boyfriends?”

Ashton rolls his eyes. “Come on, Cal. They’re both in love with each other- they just had to say it, and Luke’s accident pushed that off.”

He reaches for Calum’s hand, bringing it up to his lips, keeping his other hand firmly around the younger boy’s waist.

“Are they dating?” Luke glances at me.

“Considering their goddamn PDA has made me want to vomit, yes,” I reply. “They’re cute, but they need to learn to keep their hands off each other.”

“Please, you’re just jealous that you don’t get any of _this_.” Calum puffs out his chest, and I laugh.

“I don’t need any of _that_ , I have Luke, and he’s much better than whatever that is.” Calum’s offended expression makes me laugh even harder, and Luke’s fond one warms my heart, as he grips tighter onto my hand.

“Alright, you guys, get the hell out. I wanna spend some time with my _boyfriend_ ,” Luke orders. 

…

Luke convinced me to get into the bed with him, claiming that I won’t hurt him. I don’t know about it- but he hasn’t shown any signs of pain so far. He’s pressed himself into my chest, his chin resting in the junction between my neck and shoulder. I have my arms around his waist, holding him close. This is what I’ve been craving- his touch, his warmth, just _him_.

“I’m sorry,” Luke says, pressing his lips against my neck. “I put you through hell…”

“It’s not your fault,” I reply. “You had no control over it, I can’t really blame you for it. I do wanna slap the driver who slammed into you fucking silly, though.”

“And what is that gonna accomplish? The accident happened, it’s over and done with. There’s nothing you can do to change it.”

“I know.” I hold him tighter. “I’m sorry, I just…I was such a mess without you. I needed you, I still do need you. You make me feel okay, Lukey. I know I was a dick to you in the beginning, but that’s only because I didn’t want you finding out how much I fucking love you.”

“You could’ve just told me.” Luke’s voice is muffled, because he’s shoved his face into the crook of my neck. “You could’ve said something…”

“I would’ve been in worse pain, if we were boyfriends before all of this shit happened. Louis told me that he was cutting a lot when Harry was in a coma…and I didn’t cut as much as I starved, purged, and deprived myself of sleep…”

“That’s fucking serious, Mikey,” Luke tells me. “You can’t stop eating…you can’t throw up whatever you do eat…but you’ve been doing that since before I met you, haven’t you?”

I nod slightly. “I’m sorry…I really don’t…I really don’t like my body, Luke. My stomach is pudgy and there’s fat everywhere, and I couldn’t stop eating, because Cal would’ve gotten suspicious… I had no choice, I had to throw it up, so I wouldn’t digest it and gain weight. But I’m not the only one with a horrid perception of my body…the doctors told us that you’re starving, baby. You’re suffering from serious malnutrition…one of the tubes in your arm is a feeding tube…”

Luke tenses. He almost goes to try and pull the offending tube out, but I stop him with a firm hand, shaking my head. “Don’t you dare. You need this. You were only 120 when you were brought in, and you’re six feet tall, baby, that’s so fucking underweight… I’ve seen you every day, at lunch. You don’t eat. And the big breakfast you claim to have, is just a granola bar, if that. I know why you’re doing it- and your family is a bunch of fucking dicks- their words hold no truth.”

“You must know what it feels like, though,” Luke says softly. “I have the same problem. I just spend a lot of time comparing myself to Calum. Calum is fucking fit, and he’s thin and he has abs and no flab or fat on his body…”

“Neither do you, baby,” I promise him. “You’re not fat, you’re severely underweight. The mirror is lying to you. Ana is lying to you. And Calum has an unusually fast metabolism. Ashton has the same thing- and they both work out a hell of a lot. That’s where they both get the muscles. You have muscles too…I don’t, I just have flab, because working out is torture to me, but…”

“You’re perfect, Mikey,” Luke murmurs. “So perfect. I love you just the way you are, you don’t need to be any skinnier. You don’t need to shove your fingers down your throat, after every meal, to get me to love you. I love you anyway, I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too, Lukey…”

“Mikey, babe, get some sleep. You look exhausted. I’m right here, you can fall asleep- everything is going to be okay.”

I look at him with teary eyes. “Promise you’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Where would I go?” Luke rolls his eyes. “But yes, I promise. I’m not leaving you again. I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Did I satisfy you Muke fans? Also- I realized that I made a separate Twitter a few months ago, just for writing purposes. So, I'm actually gonna start using it- follow me @shoonderp, and I'll be posting previews of scenes, you'll know exactly when I've updated, things of that nature. And you can also DM me requests and shit. Anyway, thanks for reading, I'd love to know what you thought.


	37. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is back to Cashton, I promise. I switched it again- this chapter was supposed to be Cal's POV, but I made it Luke's, since, y'know, it's been forever since we've had a Luke POV. Next chapter will be Cal's POV, and there will be Cashton. Anyway, enjoy. And make sure you guys follow my Twitter for stories @shoonderp, I posted a preview of this chapter earlier, I'm gonna try and do that a lot more.

Michael is asleep- and he finally looks at peace. He’s breathing steadily against me, his chest rising and falling with each inhale. His eyelashes are casting dark shadows on pale cheeks, and that’s when I realize how fucking haggard he looks. There are purple circles underneath his eyes, and his complexion has definitely paled to an almost concerning level. He’s so fucking thin, so emaciated- I can wrap my hand around his wrist and have my fingers touch.

He moans in his sleep, cuddling close to me. “Lukey…” His voice is groggy and exhausted. 

“It’s okay baby, go back to sleep. M’right here,” I soothe gently, kissing his cheek. 

“Hey, Luke, can I talk to you?”

I glance up, and Ashton is standing in the doorway, Louis behind him. Nodding slightly, I watch them both come in and take seats on the two chairs beside my bed. 

Ashton looks over at Michael, sighing in relief. “So he’s finally sleeping then?”

“Yeah, he fell asleep almost half an hour ago. He’s being really clingy, though. Not that I mind,” I reply.

“You shouldn’t- expect him to be the clingiest little shit ever, in the next couple weeks,” Louis says quietly. “He lost you, he thought you were gonna die, he spent ten days in utter misery. He’s gonna be as clingy as fuck- and you need to be okay with that. Let him cling to you and relish in the fact that you’re _alive_ and _awake._ I know that I didn’t leave Harry’s side for almost three weeks, after he woke up.”

“He can be as clingy as he wants, I don’t mind. I know I scared him.”

“Listen, Lukey.” Ashton speaks up. “You need to be careful with him. There is so much he hasn’t told you- he’s been through so much, shit that Calum doesn’t even know. I only know bits and pieces of the entire thing, but he’s been so suicidal, it’s actually very scary, how badly he wants to die.”

“I thought so…I could hear a little bit, earlier…” I run my good hand through his messy hair, leaning down and kissing the black strands. “I wish he’d told me beforehand- I can’t imagine how painful it was for him.”

“He spent a majority of the time here, talking to you and sobbing. That’s kinda half my fault…seeing me and Calum together kinda made him really upset.” Ashton looks at me guiltily, shifting his gaze to his feet. “But I just…you need to go slow with him. Michael is very fragile inside- he seems like a tough guy, but he breaks and he cries and he gets hurt a lot. He’s like a baby kitten, in some ways. If you hurt him, I’ll murder you, you know that, right?” Ashton looks at me threateningly, but he seems way too adorable to even look threatening- Calum would kill me if I said that aloud. 

“He really loves you, Luke,” Louis adds. “I haven’t known him very long, but he reminded me of myself, back when Harry was in an accident. He really loves you, he just doesn’t know how to show it.”

Michael whimpers, mumbling incoherently. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but I can see tears starting to make their way down his cheeks. Whatever he’s dreaming about is clearly making him upset- especially if he’s crying about it. 

“Lukey wake up, please Lukey I love you…” he mumbles, more tears streaming down his pale cheeks.

“Oh, baby…” I look at him sadly, shaking his shoulder. “I’m right here, I’m here, I promise.”

Michael stirs, eyes blinking open. When he meets my gaze, his eyes widen. His grip on me tightens considerably, and he buries his face further into my chest, just wanting to feel close to me.

“Mikey…what was it, babe?” I ask gently, playing with his hair.

“Y-You hadn’t woken u-up…and they said they’d k-kill you if you didn’t wake up s-soon because you were taking up hospital s-space…”

His dream is complete fantasy- that would never happen in real life, but damn, he looks fucking terrified. He’s trembling, shaking fiercely as he curls himself further against me.

“Is he okay…?” Ashton asks worriedly.

“He had a bad nightmare…” I sigh. “I wish I could hold him tighter, but the only reason I’m not dying of pain right now is the morphine…I can’t fucking wait to get out of this goddamn hospital.”

“Give it time,” Louis chuckles. “Your body needs to heal, you took quite a beating there mate.”

…

“So, when can I be released?”

I glance at Doctor Simmons hopefully, putting on my puppy dog eyes. Michael’s standing next to my bed, his hand in mine. I squeeze his hand tightly, rubbing my fingers over his soft skin.

She turns to me and laughs. “Already itching to get out of here, eh?”

“Kinda…” A sheepish grin appears on my face. “It’s boring, I wanna sleep in my own bed, and I wanna be able to cuddle with my boyfriend properly…”

“Aw, you two are absolutely precious,” she coos. “But to answer your question- I have to do a few tests, I’ll schedule you for an MRI, and after all the results come in, we’ll talk about when you can get out of this place. So pray for good results, the better they are, the faster you’re out of here.”

I nod. “What kind of tests?”

“I need to take some blood, and then I want to x-ray your arm. Your leg is healing quite nicely, as are your ribs. You’ll be in the leg cast for at least another three weeks, but your arm was broken very badly- it’ll be at least a month, if not longer. After that, I’ll do the MRI, that’s about it.”

I sigh. “Okay…”

“You’ll be okay, baby,” Michael assures me, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m gonna take blood now,” she tells me. “You okay with needles?”

I tense, fear flooding my stomach. I’m not a fan of needles- definitely not. I hate them with a passion, I avoid them at all costs. I can tell Michael senses this, because he grips my hand tighter, trying to distract me.

“I’ll take that as a no- Michael, can you-”

“Already on it.” Michael cuts her off. “Lukey, baby, look at me. Don’t look at your arm.” I feel the doctor take my good hand in hers, tearing open a packet containing a dampened towel. She starts to clean my upper arm, and I can feel my breathing start to speed up.

“Lukey, think about it. After you get out of this hospital, we’re gonna go home and we’re gonna record a cover. What song do you wanna cover baby, hm?” Michael asks gently.

“Teenage Dirtbag…”

“Good, that’s good, of course we’ll do that one. And we can also get Ash into our videos, he said he’d officially become our drummer. It’s all falling into place, baby, doesn’t that sound awesome?”

“All done!” Doctor Simmons announces, stepping back from my bed. She has two tubes of my blood with her, and there’s a piece of gauze and tape over the spot she took blood from. “You did amazing, Luke. I’m just gonna get this down to the lab, and we’ll see how you’re doing, alright?”

“You were so brave, baby, I love you,” Michael murmurs. He kisses my forehead, and I lean into him, just enjoying the warmth of his presence. It’s comforting and makes me feel safe.

…

There’s a knock at the door, and both Michael and I look up. He’s sitting next to my bed and we’re laughing about something Calum apparently did a couple days ago, while I was out. 

“Come in,” I say loudly. The door swings open, and my mum and Ben walk in. Involuntarily, I tense, stiffening at the mere sight of them.

“You’re okay, baby, listen to what they have to say, okay? I yelled at them for you,” Michael whispers. 

“H-Hi, mum, Ben…” My voice shakes, no matter how hard I try to make sure it doesn’t.

“Oh, baby…my poor baby…” Mum whispers. She walks over, until she’s standing right next to Michael’s chair, and reaches out to caress my cheek.

“This is my cue to leave,” Michael announces. He leans in and kisses my other cheek, before giving my hand a tight squeeze. “Text me if you need me, babe. I love you.”

“Love you too…” I trail off, as he gets up, forcing a smile toward Ben. He leaves the room, and as soon as he does, tension drapes over us- sticky and unpleasant. 

“Luke, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Mum says. “I had no idea you were hurting this much from your brothers’ teasing. I should’ve known, I’m so sorry. I’m a failure as a mother.”

“N-No you’re not…” I reply. “I love you, mum…”

She wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. I hug back sloppily, as best I can, considering I only have one arm.

“You’re so thin, baby…I can’t believe we pushed you to this…the thought of you starving yourself…” She’s crying by now, and I feel pain in my own chest. I didn’t mean to hurt her like this. 

“Lukey, I’m so fucking sorry,” Ben mutters, as he takes our mum’s place. “You’re my baby brother, I love you. I had no idea I was being such a dick to you. Jack is such a wreck, bro. He blames himself for everything- but it’s not just his fault. I went along with it, when I should’ve said something…I’m so sorry, Luke…” His face is beet red, and his eyes are bloodshot- he looks like a mess.

“It’s…” I trail off, unable to say okay, because it isn’t okay. They hurt me, and that’s not okay.

“It’s not okay. It’s not okay when the shit we said pushed you to starving yourself and depriving your body of nutrients…” Ben sighs. “I don’t expect you to ever forgive us for this, but just know that we do love you, and we regret this with everything we have. You didn’t deserve it, bro. None of it. You’re such an amazing person- Michael is so lucky to have you. I’m just happy that you’re finally getting the love you deserve, because goddamn, we have always loved you, but we had a really shitty way of showing it. We’re gonna go soon, you deserve to spend some time with the guy who was there when we weren’t- Michael is so good to you, I’m so happy for you- but I just wanted to say this, I just want you to know how sorry we are. We love you so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Should Luke forgive Ben? I'd love to know what your opinions are- thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.


	38. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for rape at the end- be careful. Enjoy.

“I want to try walking.”

Ashton glances at me, nervousness filling his eyes. He shifts his gaze down to my injured foot- it’s still wrapped in ace bandages, but the pain as definitely died down. I’m so fucking sick of the crutches- I want to walk again. I want to try, at least. I’m not fully healed, but I’m close.

“You sure? It still looks painful…” Ashton trails off.

“I’m positive, Ash. I just want to walk like normal again. The crutches are irritating, and I’m sick of having to limp everywhere.”

“Okay…” Ashton nods uncertainly, getting to his feet and holding out a hand for me. I take it, and he pulls me onto my feet. When the injured one hits the ground, I wince, screwing my eyes shut in pain.

“I think it’s too soon, Cal…” Ashton mutters. “You’re in pain, you need the crutches.”

“No,” I grunt. “I’m okay. Let’s try.”

“If you’re sure…I’m gonna wrap my arm around your waist, just hang onto me, okay?” He says, slipping his right arm around my waist. His hold is tight and firm- I know that even if I do lose balance, I won’t fall, he’ll be right there to catch me.

We start walking the perimeter of the waiting room, and it does hurt, but the pain is nothing I can’t handle. Those stupid crutches are unnecessary, I’m okay without them. Sure, I’m leaning heavily on Ashton, but it’ll get better in time.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “I need to sit down…”

“Alright, come on.” Ashton leads me back to our chairs, helping me down onto a chair. He sits down in the chair next to me, turning my body sideways, and coaxing me to put my leg up onto his lap.

“I’m gonna take the bandages off, okay?” Ashton tells me gently. “Let’s see how swollen it is.”

I nod, as he starts unwrapping the bandages. The cool air feels nice on my foot, it’s been bandaged for so long. 

“Damn, Cal…this looks pretty bad…” I glance down at my ankle, and my eyes widen slightly. The blue-purple bruising is still there, covering my entire foot and making it look grotesque and kinda disgusting.

“Oh god…no wonder it hurts so bad…” I whisper.

“Oh, baby…” Ashton sighs. “I’m rewrapping it, and then I’ll hold you, everything’s gonna be okay.”

I nod, and he does as he says- finishes rewrapping it quickly, before pulling my entire body onto his lap. I bury my face in his chest, tears soaking into his shirt, as he rubs my back soothingly.

“There you go, you’re okay. Calm down, baby,” Ashton murmurs. “Everything’s okay.”

…

“Just a couple more steps babe, almost there,” Ashton coos, as I limp into Luke’s hospital room. He’s following close behind. I went back to the crutches, but ever since the entire walking thing, my ankle has really been hurting. I think I exacerbated it.

“Here Cal, sit down.” Ashton leads me over to the empty chair, and I sit, handing him my crutches, before addressing Luke and Michael. 

“I tried walking on it…didn’t go too well…” I explain, watching Michael’s face line with concern. 

“You okay?” He kisses Luke’s cheek, before coming over to me. I grab his hand and squeeze tightly, nodding.

“M’fine, just hurts.”

“I’ve got him,” Ashton says. “He’s going to be just fine. How about you, Luke? Did you get a definite answer on when you’re being released?”

“Tomorrow,” Luke replies, smiling at us. “Doctor Simmons said that while I’m still pretty banged up, there’s no reason for me to stay here. I can recover just as well, at home, and she thinks that’s the best place for me right now.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Michael adds. He returns to his boyfriend’s side, slipping his hand into Luke’s. Luke leans up and kisses his cheek- they’re so adorable- it should be weirding me out, but I’m so happy for them. They both look absolutely ecstatic, and goddamn, they deserve to be happy.

I feel someone lift me off the chair, and I barely react, knowing it’s just Ashton. He sits down in the chair and pulls me into his chest, nuzzling his chin into my neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Michael slip into Luke’s bed, pulling the young blonde into his arms.

Luke snuggles into his chest, grinning as Michael kisses his hair. Leaning up, he and Michael press their lips together, and I can feel Ashton tense involuntarily against me.

“You okay, Ash?” I ask.

“Y-Yeah,” he mutters, eyes locked on Luke and Michael, as they deepen their kiss. 

“Guys, um…can you not make out in front of us?” I ask awkwardly. “Ashton’s uncomfortable, and that’s something I really don’t want to see.”

Luke and Michael pull away immediately, the black-haired boy looking at us knowingly. “Shit…I’m sorry, is Ash okay?”

 _He must know about the incident…_ the thought flashes in my head, and I glance back at my boyfriend. I’m pretty sure that whatever incident went on is making him upset, especially if he’s this uncomfortable with watching Luke and Michael make out. It’s gross, yeah, but Ashton looks terrified and pale as fuck. 

“You need to take him into the waiting room and calm him down, Cal,” Michael tells me softly. “He’s going to panic, if you don’t do something.”

“What’s wrong with him?” I ask worriedly. “What _happened_?!”

Michael smiles sadly. “That isn’t my place to tell, Calum. If you can get him to calm down, you can probably coax it out of him. Just know that he’s very fragile- don’t push him. What he has to tell you in is in no way easy to say.”

…

“I’ve never told you why I…why I stopped speaking…” Ashton murmurs. We’re sitting in the waiting room, side by side, hands tightly joined.

“Ash, you don’t have to…”

“Stop. You deserve to know, you’re my boyfriend, after all.” Ashton takes a heavy breath. “It was almost a year ago. I was walking home from work- Louis and Zayn own the coffee shop that I work at, and I stayed late to help them brew pots for the morning rush. I didn’t have a car at the time, so I had to walk. There was an alley on the way back, I had to walk past it. I remember being in a hurry, because I had to get home before Michael brought Harry and Lauren back. He watches them while I’m at work. On my way…I ran into this man…” Ashton’s voice catches in his throat, and I place a hand on his shoulder, staring at him, trying to piece it together myself. If I figure it out, it means he doesn’t need to go through the pain of retelling the story.

“This man…he asked me for my money…he wanted everything I had. I thought…I thought he was a mugger, so I fought back…I needed the money to feed my brother and sister…well, he got angry…” A tear rolls down Ashton’s cheek, but he shakes his head at any offer of comfort. “He got angry, and dragged me inside the alley. He slapped one hand over my mouth, and held me against the wall…while he unzipped my pants…and took off my b-boxers…”

_Shit._

I know _exactly_ where this is going.

Fucking hell, how could someone do something like that to him? It’s so fucked up, Ashton is so beautiful, so sweet, so innocent- what the hell was that fucking dickhead thinking? “Ash, babe, you don’t have to go on…I know what you’re trying to say…”

Tears are running down his cheeks rapidly, but Ashton shakes his head. “I n-need to say it…n-need to get it off my c-chest…” He swipes angrily at his eyes. “He r-raped me…and then left me there, no pants or boxers…he left me to cry… Louis and Zayn f-found me…they knew what’d happened when they s-saw me…they took me to the hospital, took me to get a r-rape kit done…” Ashton’s lower lip is wobbling dangerously, as he swallows back sobs. 

“I was so…disgusted…in myself, in my body, in m-me… I’m dirty and used…I’ve been t-touched by a s-stranger…that’s why I stopped t-talking…I didn’t think my words meant something a-anymore…and I was s-scared…I’m still scared…that’s why I panicked, earlier. Seeing Michael and Luke m-make out…I can’t. I can’t do t-that…or have sex, e-ever…” He hangs his head. “I’m sorry, if that makes you not want to b-be with me. You can b-break up with me now…”

“Ashton,” I say gently. “Look at me, baby.” He lifts his head, and I wipe tears from his cheeks, smiling at him. “I’m so sorry that happened to you…you have no idea how much I want to murder the fucking cunt who did that to you. But it changes nothing between us- I love you for who you are- not for sex, making out, anything like that. I didn’t fall in love with you for the mere reason of sex- if we’re being honest here, we don’t have to have sex, baby. We would have to adopt a child anyway, so it doesn’t matter. I don’t ever want to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

Ashton sniffles, looking up at me with vulnerable, innocent eyes. “Can I have a hug…?”

“Of course.” I pull him onto my lap, and hold him as tight as I can, kissing his red cheeks, before he hides his face in my neck. “I love you. I love you for who you are- I don’t care if we never make out or have sex. Being with you is all that matters. I’m so fucking lucky to have you, and I’m going to love you for the res of my life- you deserve to be loved, cherished, and respected. You’re beautiful, Ashton. You’re absolutely amazing. You are so strong- I’m so proud of you.”


	39. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry there wasn't an update yesterday, I was sick and I had no energy to write. Anyway, here's the new chapter, not too angsty, I hope.

“Cal?”

Calum glances up at me, raising an eyebrow. 

“I think I should go home, I haven’t seen my brother and sister in a while, and I really wanna relieve Liam and Niall of having to take care of them. Do you wanna come with…?”

Calum smiles at me. “Of course, babe. I’d love to meet them.”

“They’ll love you,” I promise him, helping him up. “ _I_ love you.”

“I love you too,” Calum replies, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “Your car’s still here, right?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Still can’t believe you’re the only one out of the four of us who can drive,” Calum grumbles. 

I laugh. “You’re not even 16 yet, and I’m 17. You’re still a baby sophomore, and I’m a senior.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Calum mutters. “You’re graduating this year, I don’t wanna think about that.”

“You’re fucking crazy, if you think I’m moving somewhere far and leaving you. I don’t have enough money to go to UNI, I’m just gonna see if I can get custody of Harry and Lauren, and then move into an apartment with them.”

Calum’s smile fades. “You deserve to go to UNI…you don’t have to stay here, I know it’s depressing and shitty and if I were you, I’d want to run away as fast as fucking possible.”

I roll my eyes. “My siblings are here. My best friends are here. And most importantly- my boyfriend is here. I’m not going anywhere, Cal. Even if you’re willing to let me- Zayn and Louis would have my head if I left.”

“I love you,” Calum mumbles, stopping just outside the entrance to the hospital. He leans in, and presses his lips to mine- I can see caution in his eyes as he kisses me, not wanting to do anything to hurt me.

“You’re fine, Cal,” I tell him, as we pull away. “Seriously, I’ll tell you if I’m not comfortable, don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll always worry. I love you.”

…

I push the door to my house open, holding it for Calum. 

He crutches inside, and I follow, shutting the door softly behind us. When I look into the living room, my heart warms. 

Niall and Liam are curled up with Harry and Lauren, all four of them watching the third Toy Story. Lauren’s head is resting on Liam’s shoulder, his arm around her, while Harry is sitting on Niall’s lap, the blonde having an arm around my brother’s waist to keep him from falling.

“Ashy!”

Harry notices me first, squirming out of Niall’s grip and practically running over. I catch him easily, lifting him up into the air and hugging him tightly. 

“Hey, baby,” I murmur, kissing his cheek. 

Harry freezes, looking at me with wide eyes. “Ashy…you just…you’re talking again?”

I nod, ruffling his hair, and the biggest grin forms across his face. He clings tighter to me, burying his face in my shoulder. 

“Ashy, you’re talking again? What happened?” Lauren whispers, from where she’s standing in front of us. I smile, pulling her in with my other arm. Keeping Harry pressed against my hip, I use my left arm to hug Lauren slightly, leaning down and kissing her head.

“I met someone,” I tell them softly. “And he kinda changed my perspective on things.”

Both my siblings are now looking at Calum with wide eyes, and Harry is scanning his crutches with a confused expression on his face.

“Hey you two, get off your brother, let him come sit down, and then he can introduce us all to this new guy, okay?” Liam comes over to us, smiling at me.

Both Harry and Lauren refuse, persistently clinging to me. “S’okay Li, I don’t think they’re gonna get off me any time soon. I’m good.”

Liam nods. “You look happier, Ash. It’s so nice to see you like this. We’re gonna go- I’m sure Nialler and I will get the full story later, but you should take some time to spend with the kids. They’ve been amazing about all of this- you should really be proud of them. They’re really sweet kids.”

“Thanks, Li. That really means a lot. Zayn told me to tell you to text him, they’re still at the hospital. Harry and Louis are having some sort of moment, apparently, and Luke woke up, so Michael is attached to him, won’t let him go for even a minute.”

“That’s how Lou was, right after Harry came back to us,” Niall pipes in. “Clung to the lad for weeks, I almost thought he went with Harry when he took a piss, he was that attached to him.”

“When you lose someone for a while, and think they might die, you cling after they wake up,” Liam chides. “Louis was really bad, you know that.”

“Better than you do,” Niall responds. “Because you kept sucking face with Z the entire bloody time.”

Liam’s cheeks begin to darken, and he glares at the blonde. “Fuck off, will you?”

…

“Hazza, Loz, this is Calum. He’s my boyfriend.”

I do my best to motion to Calum finding that quite difficult when I have two children attached to either sides of me. From his place in the armchair, Calum grins and waves at them.

“You’re dating our brother?” Harry asks, looking at him with wide eyes. “And why are you using crutches, did you hurt yourself?”

“I am, love. Your brother is one of the sweetest people ever- I’m glad to be saying I’m dating him. As for the crutches- I sprained my ankle playing football, so yeah, I’m off my feet until it heals,” Calum replies. 

“You better not hurt our brother,” Lauren warns. “He doesn’t need that. Our mum’s enough of a bitch.”

“Lauren!” I scold, looking her in the eye. “Mum is _not_ a bitch, and I never want to hear you use that word again, do you understand me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” she mumbles, avoiding my eyes. Instant guilt pangs in my chest- she looks upset, and I hate seeing her upset. I normally don’t ever snap at either of them, so this is a rare moment. 

“Baby,” I sigh, bringing her close to my chest. She hides in my neck and I kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry I snapped, but mum isn’t a bitch, and no matter what you think of her, she’s worked hard to raise us.”

“Until she started getting drunk and making you earn all our money,” Harry says dejectedly. 

I force a smile toward Calum, and he just nods solemnly at me. I bring Harry onto my other side, and hold both my siblings close, kissing their foreheads and running my hands through their hair. 

“I love you guys,” I murmur. “Never forget that.”

…

“They’re right, you know?” Calum says, as I come back down the stairs, just having finished putting Harry and Lauren to bed. They were both a little clingy, but that was to be expected. I don’t mind it at all.

“About my mum? Yeah, I know,” I sigh, slumping down onto the couch next to him with my head in my hands. “I just don’t know what to do anymore, Cal. There’s still the rest of the year left, and then I need to figure out a full time job and shit…”

“Relax, babe,” Calum murmurs. “I’m sure Zayn and Louis can put you full time at the coffee shop, you’re their only other employee anyway. But your sister was right to call your mum a bitch, because frankly, she is one.”

“She raised me, and then them, until a few years ago…” 

“Parenting doesn’t just stop, Ash,” Calum reminds me. “Just because she lost her husband, and you guys lost your father, doesn’t mean she was relieved of her duties as a mother. She’s not supposed to be going around and getting drunk and high, but she does it anyway. And it’s gotten so bad that her _ten year old_ and _thirteen year old_ resent her for it. She’s not a mother, to them. You’re the parental figure in their lives.”

“I’m just hoping that I’ve done a good enough job, then…” I close my eyes and lean my head back against the couch cushion. “I’m not the prime example, considering I’m a depressed freak who cuts himself and was raped by some goddamn stranger.”

“Stop it,” Calum says sternly. “Stop talking about yourself like that, that’s awful. You’re depressed, and you self-harm, yeah, but none of that is your fault. You’re under so much stress and pressure, I’m not surprised that you cut. And if you still blame yourself for that other incident, I’m going to kill you- because none of that will ever be your fault. But Ash, you’ve raised those kids so well. They’re so sweet and polite, they absolutely adore you, and they’re very willing to adjust and agree to almost anything. They love you so much, they worry about you, you’re their world, babe.”

Calum lifts my chin and forces me to look at him. “So believe me when I say this, you are the best big brother ever- and what you’ve done with those kids is absolutely incredible. They’re absolute sweethearts, and it’s all because of you.”


	40. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for self-harm at the end, be careful. Enjoy.

“Mikey? You okay, babe?”

I glance over at Luke, forcing a smile as I nod automatically. He tilts his head, pressing his lips to my cheek. I’m not really okay, and I know that he can tell. He can read me like a fucking book- not that I care. I want him to know me inside and out- that way I don’t have to tell him shit, he’ll just know.

“What’s going on, baby?” Luke asks gently. “You look like you’re about to cry…”

I swallow hard, shaking my head. “M’okay,” I insist. He doesn’t need my shit, on top of his. He’s being released in a few hours, and he needs to focus on getting better. I’m just being depressed and fucked up like always, it’s a vicious cycle that never fucking ends. 

“You’re not okay.” Luke shifts, sitting up and leaning back against his pillows. He opens his arms for me, looking at me worriedly. “I want to help you, Mikey. Please let me in.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you…” I whisper, my voice cracking. Luke’s face falls, and he beckons me anyway.

“You aren’t going to hurt me, baby. My ribs are starting to heal, and my arm and leg don’t hurt anymore. Plus, I’m on morphine, so I’m not in any pain. Please come here and let me hold you, you’re about to cry, and you shouldn’t have to do that alone.” He’s so fucking sweet, and I’m just enraptured by how genuine he is.

I nod reluctantly, scooting up and shifting into his arms, so I’m basically sitting on his lap. Luke smiles, tightening his arms around my body as much as he can. I can feel the hard material of his cast poking into my back, and it makes me wince. I hate the feeling of knowing he’s injured. It fucking kills me. 

“Talk to me,” Luke murmurs. “What hurts? What’s going on?”

“Lukey…there’s a lot of things you still don’t know…and I just…I’m so fucked up, and I hate myself so much, you don’t want to deal with that. You don’t want to deal with me, I’m not worth that. I don’t want to burden you or drag you down or make you leave me…”

“Hey,” Luke says firmly. “Listen to me. I am not going anywhere. I am not leaving you. I love you, Mikey. I love you so much- and whatever you have to say, whatever you’re about to tell me- it changes nothing between us. I won’t judge you on anything you say- that’s a promise.”

“My dad hits me,” I choke out, not waiting for his reaction before I shove my face into his neck and let tears fall. Luke stiffens, tightening his arms around me.

“I did not expect that…” Luke mutters. “Baby, calm down, we need to talk about this. You’re gonna hyperventilate if you keep this up, come on, relax, please babe.” I don’t respond, trying to calm down my rapidly racing heart and slow down my breathing.

After a good five minutes of nothing but sobbing, I finally lift my head, my bloodshot eyes meeting his. “Oh, baby…” Luke sighs, reaching up to thumb tears off my cheeks. “Shhh, just relax, okay? Let’s talk for a minute. I’m kinda confused on this entire thing- he hits you?”

I nod, hiccupping. “He h-hates me, Lukey. He c-calls me w-worthless and useless and a m-mistake…I was never supposed to be b-born…”

“Oh my fucking god…” Luke whispers. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, that’s not true at all. You’re not a mistake- you are a fucking gift to this world, a miracle. You’re beautiful and special and absolutely amazing. I’m so lucky to be your boyfriend.”

“I hate myself, Luke…” I stare down at my thighs, closing my eyes. “I hate my body, I hate being so pudgy and fucking _fat_ , and I just…I know this is triggering for you and I hate the fact that I _can_ trigger you. I can trigger my own goddamn boyfriend.” I chuckle humorlessly. “That’s so fucked up, isn’t it?”

“Mikey, shhh, listen,” Luke says gently. “You’re not going to trigger me. I’m okay. I’m getting better. But no one has paid much attention to your mental state, these past few days, and I really think we should’ve been. Because while I’ve been getting better, all you’ve been doing is getting worse.”

“I wanna die, Lukey,” I whisper. “But it’s so hard, because I know how it feels to not know whether the one you love most is dead or not, and how it feels to have to live without them, and I would never wanna put you through something like that…I just…I’m scared and I’m exhausted and I just wanna go to sleep and never wake up…”

I can see the seriousness and worry in Luke’s eyes, but he refuses to show it. He just sighs and pulls me closer to him. “You need to get some rest. I’m glad you told me, about that…but you really need to sleep, you’re exhausted and upset, being awake will just make it a lot worse.”

“I’m sorry, Lukey,” I whisper.

“Sorry?” Luke asks in confusion. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I’m sorry I’m not a good boyfriend. Sorry I’m too fucked up to take care of you properly. I’m sorry I’m too much of a mess and that I have panic attacks sometimes and that I’m just messed up and broken and I just hate myself so much. I’m sorry that I want to die and sorry I want to put you through the pain you put me through but everything just hurts and I don’t want to try anymore. I give up, I’m done.”

…

I guess I finally fell asleep, because I wake in Luke’s arms. 

I can hear voices- specifically Harry and Louis’ voices, so I decide to keep my eyes closed and listen to exactly what they’re saying about me. Luke sounds worried, and though I hate seeing him worry, this is just…I can’t tell him to stop worrying about me, because this is giving him reason to worry.

“He’s so suicidal, and I’m so worried about him, guys…” Luke murmurs. I feel him run a hand through my hair, tangling his fingers in it.

“You just gotta make sure you show him how much you love him, Luke,” Harry advises softly. “Lou was pretty suicidal a couple years ago…but I didn’t let him out of my sight. I was on him all the damn time, and I knew he was pissed at me for it, but he didn’t show it, and eventually I showed him how to love himself, because when I first found out, he absolutely hated himself. It’s gonna be harder for you, since you’re still recovering from your injuries and your own depression and eating disorder, but Michael needs you.”

“When I was recovering,” Louis says. “I begged Harry not to take me to therapy, and he said that he wouldn’t. To help me stop cutting, he drew a butterfly on my wrist and wrote his name underneath, and then made me promise to stay clean, for him. And as much as I wanted to cut for so many days after that, I couldn’t- because I loved him too much to break that promise. It worked, it really worked, Luke, you should try that with Michael.”

“I remember that…” Harry says wistfully. “You were really bad some nights, but you never did actually pick up the blade again, and you even stopped scratching at your wrists, so yeah Luke, it’s definitely effective. And you can also flush his blades, Michael is going to fight you on it, but do it anyway. He’ll thank you for it later, he may not like it now, but he’ll thank you later.”

Flush my…flush my blades? Shock invades my mind, as I try to comprehend the thought. I know I can’t physically react, because Luke, Louis, and Harry will know I was awake the entire time, but knowing that Luke might be flushing my blades…he can’t. I need them. I need to slice that sharp metal into my skin, I need to see the crimson liquid…I just need to cut. Luke can’t do that to me. He can’t take my fucking blades. 

It’s a few minutes, before Harry and Louis finally get up and leave, and that’s when I actually “wake up”. I blink, focusing on Luke. 

“Hey, baby,” Luke says softly, kissing my cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“I heard…” I whisper. “What Harry said…you can’t take my blades, please Lukey, you can’t! You can’t flush them, I need them, they make me feel okay! I’m sorry that I rely on cutting so much, but please don’t take my blades and flush them. Please, I’m begging you, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts? The technique that Louis mentioned, about promising Harry he'd stay clean, and being unable to break it, that does actually work. It's what I've used, and I'm two months clean, so I guess you could say it works quite well. Anyways, Mikey is definitely spiraling downward fast, and you guys are going to hate me for what I have in store for him next. 
> 
> I'm thinking that we're gonna get up to 45 chapters, and then an epilogue. So the ending is planned- and trust me, I have an idea for another fic already, and I want to get That Was Then, This Is Now done before the new year. The new year is gonna bring a bunch of different stories from me, so guys, I hope you're prepared. :)


	41. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few days, I'm sorry. I was planning to post the chapter yesterday, but then my internet stopped working, so I couldn't. I hope this chapter makes up for it- you'll probably want to murder me in my sleep at the end, though. Enjoy.

“Ash?”

Ashton tilts his head, raising an eyebrow.

“I just got a text from my mum,” I mutter. “She wants me home, apparently they haven’t seen enough of me recently. And my dad’s pissed at me for missing school. My mum managed to calm him down and he’s finally okay with it, but they want me home…”

Ashton nods. “I’m coming with you.”

I stare at him. “My parents aren’t the typical parents, Ash. They’re not the most accepting people- and I haven’t even come out yet. They still think I’m gonna find a girl to settle down with…I don’t want you to be there when I come out to them.”

“Too bad,” Ashton replies. “I’m not letting you do that by yourself. You’re already upset and broken enough- I’m going to defend you. And besides, even as just your friend, I wanna meet your mum, maybe your dad as well.”

I sigh. “You’re making a big mistake, Ash…”

Ashton shakes his head. “I’m not letting you get hurt anymore. I’m your boyfriend, and I will do whatever I have to, to protect you. And if that means getting yelled at by your enraged father, I’ll gladly take it.”

“Fine, I guess…”

…

“Mum? I’m home.”

Ashton closes the door behind us, and I meet my mum in the hallway.

She grins at me, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Hi, baby. Who’s your friend? I’m making your favorite for dinner, does he plan on staying?”

I swallow nervously. “Yeah, mum, this is my boyfriend, Ashton. He’s a senior, he goes to my school.” I motion to Ashton, who moves to stand beside me, wrapping his arm around my waist. 

“…did I just hear you say boyfriend?!” 

My father’s voice is rage, and storming footsteps are heard, as he stomps into the room. He glares at me and Ashton, venom in his eyes. “You’re gay?!”

I nod weakly, feeling a cold sweat begin to break out on my face. I’m shaking, and I can feel myself getting dizzier and dizzier by the second. I can barely hold onto my crutches, I feel like I’m going to pass out. 

“Oh, well that’s just great!” He makes a big motion of clapping his hands together sarcastically. “One more reason you’re a stupid disappointment. As if the dyslexia wasn’t enough, you’re too stupid to read in school, and now you come and tell me that your brain has been corrupted, and it’s suddenly okay to be in a relationship with a guy? That’s just fucking great, Calum. I don’t even know why you’re my son- you can’t be. We must’ve gotten the babies mix-”

“That’s _enough_ h, David!” My mum cries, glaring at him. “Are you quite finished?! Do me a favor and look at your son, _look_ at him. And yes, he is most definitely your son, and what you just said was absolutely disgusting and out of line. The boy is sobbing, shaking, trembling- do you even know how terrified he is of you? He’s utterly petrified. I’ve put up with you putting him down for far too long- who _cares_ if he’s gay? He’s _happy_ , and when did that stop mattering?” She turns to me, tears in her eyes. “Calum, sweetheart, none of what your father said is close to true. If he doesn’t accept you, he can get out of this damn house, because you are _my_ son, and I love you for who you are. I’m sorry I didn’t step in to defend you sooner- I really should’ve. You didn’t deserve this shit from him for so long.”

“Get out of this house? This is _my_ house!” David retorts angrily. “You have no right to tell me to leave!”

“Then _I’ll_ leave,” My mum says firmly. “And I’ll take Calum with me, and I will file for divorce. If you can’t respect your own children, you do not deserve to be a father to them.”

“Cal, babe, you gotta calm down!” Ashton’s voice is panicked, a steady hand pressed to my back. “Cal, you’re gonna panic, come on, calm down for me? You’re okay, everything’s okay.”

I’m shaking. 

I can barely breathe, my chest is so fucking tight. Pain is panging in my heart, and I’m so dizzy. Exhaustion is creeping up on me, along with a tidal wave of emotion, slamming into me with bitter force. I’m going to pass out. I can’t do this. This is too much.

“Calum!” Ashton wraps both arms around my waist. “He’s about to faint, _do_ something!” He screams to my parents, before continuing to whisper in my ear. “You’re alright baby, you’re fine, calm down. Everything’s okay.”

I choke out something incoherent, the dizziness only growing stronger. My world is spinning, and a dark blackness is creeping up on me. Exhaustion filling my veins, I give in, letting the darkness take me, as my body goes limp.

…

When I wake, I find that I’m in my bedroom.

I’m still tired as hell, and I can tell that time has passed. Turning my head to the side, I see Ashton sitting on the edge of the bed, texting someone. 

“A-Ash?” I whisper hoarsely, wincing at how bad my voice sounds.

“Cal!” Ashton’s eyes light up, as he turns to face me. He leans in for a hug, and I hug him back feebly. 

“Wha happened…?” I slur weakly, head flopping onto his shoulder.

“You fainted, babe,” Ashton whispers. “You had a panic attack, it all got to be too much for you. I carried you up here, it’s been three hours. Your mum kicked your dad out for a while, she’s downstairs making soup for you. She’s been really worried, Cal…and she called your sister, she’s on her way home.”

“No!” I protest, shaking my head. “No, she’s supposed to be studying. This is her last year of UNI, she needs to focus as much as she can!”

“Cal,” Ashton says gently. “Your mum saw your stomach. She knows about the cutting. Your sister is coming home so she can help with finding a therapist and shit.”

“Fuck…no, no therapist, I’m okay.” 

Ashton rolls his eyes. “You’re about as okay as I am, and I was on the brink of suicide a couple days ago. You need to get help, baby. I talked your mum out of rehab, and compromised- therapy, once a week. You can go to a psychologist, you just have to talk to her, she won’t give you any medicine. Just please try, for me?”

I sigh. “I…I don’t know, Ash…mum knows now, and she’s gonna be extremely overprotective…”

Ashton smiles ruefully. “Better she be overprotective than nonexistent in your life, don’tcha think?”

Shit. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m being ungrateful…” I ramble, looking at him desperately. “i didn’t mean it…”

Ashton shakes his head. “It’s fine, babe. I talked to your mum for a long time, she said that Harry and Lauren can stay here some times, she’d be happy to baby them and take care of them. I think she misses being a mum, like, you and your sister are grown up now, she misses being a mum, and if she can be motherly toward my brother and sister, it’ll make it better for her.”

“Sounds like this is all figured out,” I say slowly. “You need to get emancipated, though…”

Ashton sighs. “I know, I’m going to talk to my mum in a couple of days. Your mum said she knows a good lawyer.”

“Then it’s all put into place, yeah? Everything finally seems to be coming together…” I exhale into his shoulder, burying my nose in the crook of his neck. “I love you, thank you for talking to my mum.”

“She’s very sweet, Cal,” Ashton murmurs back. “Kinda reminded me of what my own mum used to be like, y’know, before she started drinking herself into oblivion and getting high all the time…”

“Ash…” I tighten my arms around his waist, bringing my head back to press my forehead against his. Ashton swallows back the lump in his throat, kissing my cheek gently.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m okay, I’ve accepted it.”

“File for emancipation, get your siblings out of that goddamn house. If my mum does divorce my dad, you guys can probably stay here for a while. You’re gonna be okay Ash, I promise.”

Ashton nods mutely, and we just sit like that for a few minutes, hugging tightly. The silence is broken by his phone ringing, and he pulls away from me to answer it. “Hey, Lukey. Oh my fucking god, what?! Are you serious?! What the fucking hell happened?!”

He looks absolutely panicked, and I stare at him, trying to figure out what Luke must’ve told him.

“Yeah,” Ashton says immediately. “Yeah, we’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just hang on, Lukey, everything is gonna be okay. He’s gonna be fine. Yeah, love you, bye.” He hangs up, and I immediately question him.

“What happened?!”

Ashton looks me in the eye. “We need to get to the hospital. Michael tried to kill himself.”


	42. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is extremely emotional and very triggering. If you'll be triggered by suicide, skip the italicized scene. And don't kill me for the entire chapter.

It’s ironic, really. 

Being released from the hospital, only to go straight back.

My boyfriend tried to kill himself. 

I’m broken.

I’m lying to everyone and trying to stay as composed as possible, but I am absolutely broken and I need him to be okay again.

This is how he felt when I was in a coma, isn’t it?

Except for the part where he did this on _purpose_. Part of me hates him for doing something like this, but the other part of me sympathizes with him. And another part of me wants to _kill_ his father, because his father’s actions are the crux of his pain. 

Kinda hard to do, with two limbs in casts. A guy sitting in a wheelchair looks hella intimidating, don’t you think? Yeah, I thought so. His father will go running as soon as he sees me. Pfft, damn, I’m pathetic. 

I’ve been getting better, but Michael’s been getting worse, and I didn’t see it until he confessed to me. By that time, he was already much too far gone- by that time, he’d already probably made plans to kill himself. I was too late.

I was the one to find him, and that killed me.

_One hour earlier_

_“Mikey? I’m officially discharged, we can go home now!”_

_I wheel toward the bathroom, seeing the light at the bottom of the door. “Mikey, babe, you alright? You’ve been in there for a long time…”_

_I receive no answer, my worry for him only growing. I doubt the door is unlocked- not many people leave the door unlocked when they go take a shit. I hope that’s all he’s doing. I hope that my worry is just paranoia that’ll eventually dissipate, once that door opens, and he steps out._

_Crossing my fingers, I reach up for the doorknob, stretching up and wincing. I’m a lot closer to the ground in this wheelchair, and having to reach up for things is killing my ribs._

_Surprisingly, the door swings open. I grin victoriously, wheeling myself into the room._

_But what I see makes me freeze._

_Michael is lying on the floor, a pool of blood slowly forming around him. His gouged out wrist is facing toward me, a long gash splitting the soft skin of his forearm._

_“Oh my fucking god…” I don’t even realize I’m crying until I feel my shirt collar dampen with salty liquid. In one motion, I scoot out of my wheelchair and hit the ground. Pain stings in my limbs, but I ignore it, crawling over to Michael._

_I reach for a towel- one that’s been conveniently placed on the sink. Tears streaking my cheeks rapidly, I wrap his wrist in the towel, swaddling the limb. “M-Mikey, oh god, why, baby? Why’d you have to do something like this? I’m here for you, I could’ve helped you…I love you s-so m-much…”_

_He’s pale, and his other wrist is covered in millions of red cuts, fresh- probably from last night or earlier today. I choke out a sob, squeezing my eyes shut. How could I have not noticed? It’s all my fucking fault…_

_“H-Help…I have to c-call…” I whimper. I’m already in a hospital, and there’s a button to press in the bathroom, in case something happens to a patient while they’re in the shower, and they need assistance. I jam my finger into the button and wait, wrapping and unwrapping Michael’s wrist, so the towel doesn’t stick to the open wound. His blood is starting to stain my clothes, but at this point, I don’t give a damn._

_“I l-love you…” I whisper hoarsely. “I l-love you so much, Michael Gordon C-Clifford…” Saying his full name brings a new onslaught of tears, just as a nurse comes rushing in._

_Seeing the scene, her eyes widen. I hear her bark something into her radio, and then feel her drop down next to me._

_“Honey, everything’s gonna be okay. He’s going to be fine, can you please move and let me take his pulse?”_

_“N-No! Don’t t-touch him, he’s m-mine!” I choke out, moving closer to Mikey. She can’t take him from me. No one can._

_“Of course he is, sweetie. But we need to save him, you gotta move. You want us to save him, don’t you? We’re trying to help.”_

_“F-Fine,” I whimper, turning my gaze back to Michael. “I l-love you so much…p-please be okay…” Leaning down, I kiss his pale cheek, a couple of my tears splashing onto his skin._

…

“Lukey!”

I barely acknowledge Ashton and Calum, as they run up to me. Well, Ashton is running, and Calum is limping as fast as he can.

“What happened?!” Ashton cries, dropping down in front of my chair. He takes my hands in his and forces me to look at him, face dropping at the sight of my puffy cheeks and red eyes.

“He cut his wrist,” I say emotionlessly, staring blankly at him.

Calum lets out a pained noise, collapsing into one of the waiting room’s chairs. He rubs a hand over his face, starting to shake.

Ashton’s eyes darken. “Shit…he’s going to be okay. He’s going to be fine- he’s strong as fuck, he wouldn’t go down this easily.”

“I found him,” I mutter. “Bleeding out.”

Calum whimpers at that, and Ashton sighs heavily. “Lukey, you have blood on your clothes, do you wanna change them?”

“No. Leave me alone. This is my fault, let me wallow in guilt by myself.”

Ashton’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “This is _not_ your fault, how could you even think that?”

“I should’ve seen it sooner,” I whisper. “He was hurting, and he told me how bad he was hurting, but I thought that he could wait until I was released, for us to really talk, and for me to help him…obviously, I was wrong…”

“It’s not you, Luke,” Ashton tells me gently. “I’ve known Michael for almost four years, and Cal’s known him for even longer. He’s a very reserved person. He prefers to bottle things up, rather than tell anyone anything. He’ll wait until it gets to be too much, and he’ll have a breakdown. Trust me when I say this- it is not your fault.”

“Michael’s a mess, Luke,” Calum says hoarsely. “He’s my best friend, but he really is a mess. He cuts a lot, he purges, and…I don’t think home is good for him…”

“His dad hits him,” I mutter. “He told me yesterday.”

“Holy fucking shit…” Calum’s eyes widen in realization. “That’s where all the bruises and cuts are from, that’s why he’s limping a lot of the time in school, that’s just…I had no fucking idea…”

“We’ve all got pretty fucked up parents, huh?” Ashton chuckles humorlessly. “Luke’s parents take jokes way too far, Cal, your father is a homophobic asshole who doesn’t give a shit about your mental health, Mikey’s dad hits him, and my mother is a alcoholic and a drug addict.”

“What about your dad?” I ask bitterly. 

“Walked out on us a couple years after Harry was born.” Ashton forces a smile. “Eight years ago. I was nine.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” I look at him remorsefully. 

Ashton waves a hand. “S’okay. I’ve accepted it. He wasn’t the best dad when he was with us, anyway.”

“You’re a better dad than he’ll ever be, Ash,” Calum adds.

Noting my confused expression, Calum smiles weakly and begins to explain. “Ash has basically raised Harry and Lauren, they look up to him like a father. And lemme just say, he’s done an amazing job. Those kids are beautiful.”

Ashton blushes, shaking his head. “Cal, stop. M’not that great.”

“Give yourself some credit,” Calum chides. “You’re amazing.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Ashton dismisses the compliment hurriedly. “The point of this is, Lukey, Michael is going to be fine. He needs help, and he needs you. Please don’t leave him, hurt him, anything- he’s extremely fragile inside, this what I meant, a couple days ago. He’s fragile, he’s broken, and he gets hurt easily. He just doesn’t show it. He may look okay on the outside, but he’s not nearly alright on the inside.”

“I wish I had known ahead of time…I could’ve done something…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Lukey,” Calum says from behind me. “I know you want to, but you can’t make this your fault. I bet that even Michael will agree with me.”

“If he’s alive to,” I choke out, tears blurring my vision. “I miss him, I want my Mikey back…I need him…”

“Oh, Luke…” Ashton pulls me into his arms, and I bury my face in his shoulder, letting my tears soak into his shirt. “It’s gonna be okay, relax. Shhhh, everything is going to be okay. I promise, you’re gonna be alright, and Mikey is gonna be alright, everything is going to be fine. Breathe, Lukey. I’ve got you, it’s all gonna be okay.”


	43. Chapter 42

Luke finally cried himself to the point of exhaustion. 

His body gave up, and he’s sleeping in my arms- awkwardly, due to the casts and stitch sites. But I can tell that I’m more comfortable than his wheelchair- that thing looks bulky, irritating, and just plain painful. 

“He’s sleeping, right?” Calum mutters. 

I nod, brushing Luke’s hair from his face. “Good thing too, he’s had a long day. I feel so bad for him, he’s in a lot of pain, and then having to find Mikey…”

“He’s gonna be okay.” Calum exhales. “I’ve been through this before- not that he’s tried to kill himself before, but I’ve been at the point where I just wanted everything to end, and even when you get to that point, part of you is _terrified_ to die.”

“Yeah,” I agree softly. “No matter how many times I wanted to end it, no matter how many times I picked up a pill bottle and thought about ending it for good, death was always this terrifying _end_ for me, and I just…I couldn’t bring myself to it.”

“Glad you didn’t.” Calum gets up, limping over and curling himself into my side. “Love you.” He kisses my cheek gently, and I lean over, pressing my lips to the top of his head. I’m slightly taller than he is- but I’m also two years older, so it makes sense. 

“Love you too, Cal,” I mumble. “Mikey’s gonna be fine, right? I kept telling Luke he would be, but I don’t even…I’m so scared, Cal…I love him so much, he can’t die on us. He can’t do that to us, to _Luke_.”

“He is going to be _fine_ ,” Calum says firmly. “I know that boy better than I know myself, and he will not give up this easily. Relax, we’re not going to be holding any funerals any time soon.”

I wince, and Calum sighs. 

“Too soon?”

I roll my eyes. “You think?”

…

“Guys, Michael’s out of surgery.”

Doctor Simmons comes up to us, brushing hair out of her eyes. “He’s doing fine, he’ll be completely back to normal in a couple of weeks.”

“Weeks?” Luke looks at her worriedly.

She sighs. “He lost a lot of blood, Luke. He needed a transfusion. Everything went alright, but we stitched him up, and the stitches are gonna take a while to heal. Because of how much blood he lost, he’s gonna be pretty weak, and that arm is gonna be sore. Aside from that…we need to talk about his bulimia…”

“Bulimia?” I stare at her with wide eyes. “He’s bulimic? Since when?”

“He purges up his food,” Luke says hollowly. “I didn’t…I didn’t think it was this bad…”

“It’s very serious, Luke. His throat is going to be permanently damaged, if he keeps this up- and his weight is a point of immediately concern. Luke, he weighs less than you.”

Luke freezes. “H-He…what…? I’m 123, how can he be l-lower…?”

“Michael is barely 115, guys,” she says grimly. “His eating disorder is starting to become extremely dangerous- it’s more mental than anything. His perception of himself is extremely distorted, and if he continues like this, it’s only going to get worse.”

“Holy fuck…” Calum shakes his head, staring at the ground. “What…what’s going to happen from here?”

“Well, we’ve got him on a feeding tube right now, and he has no idea he’s on it. I’d advise you not to tell him, because that’s only going to prompt him to want to rip it out.” She sighs heavily. “He needs you guys right now- especially you, Luke. He thinks he’s fat, he thinks the mirror is telling the truth, when it isn’t.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how do you know so much about these types of things?” Luke asks shyly. 

Doctor Simmons smiles weakly. “I was anorexic, back when I was your guys’ age. I did get really bad, to the point you and Michael are at. And it was scary- there were times where I didn’t think I’d make it out alive. And that’s why it breaks my heart to see you two suffering, you’re kids, you’re what, 15? You guys are too young to be in this much pain, and seeing you go through something I went through…I want to do whatever I can to make sure you both get through this.”

…

Michael looks like a ghost.

Pale skin, exhausted eyes, and tubes everywhere. Luke chokes out a sob as soon as he sees him, hiding his face in his hands. I can hear him crying, and the sound is painful and absolutely heartbreaking. I hate that he has to go through this. He doesn’t deserve it. 

“He’s okay, Lukey,” Calum murmurs. “He’s just unconscious, he’ll regain consciousness soon, and then you can talk to him and get into the bed and cuddle with him and make him feel okay again, doesn’t that sound nice?”

“He shouldn’t be here in the first place,” Luke whispers. “I can’t stand to see him like this…this hurts, this hurts worse than being hit by that fucking car.”

“He’s gonna wake up soon, and then you can yell at him and kiss him, at the same time if you want,” I say. “He’s gonna attach himself to you, I hope you’re prepared to have him on you at all times. Michael’s clingy as fuck, you’ve probably figured that out by now.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “Have I ever complained about something like that? Cuddling with him is one of the best things in my life. He is the best thing to ever happen to me, and he will always be.”

“…I a-am?”

“Mikey!”

Luke’s eyes light up at the sound of Michael’s voice, and I push him up to his boyfriend’s bed, smiling at them both. Michael sits up weakly, reaching for him, and I lift Luke from the chair, placing him down next to the black-haired boy.

“Don’t you _dare_ do something like that _ever_ again.” Luke attempts to scold, but it just ends in a flood of tears. Michael crushes him into his chest, resting his head on Luke’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Michael says hoarsely, threading his hands through Luke’s hair. “I’m so sorry.”

…

“C’mon Ash, you probably have something to say. I already got a mouthful from Calum.”

Michael shifts a sleeping Luke in his arms, kissing the blonde’s hair. 

I sigh. “I don’t know what to say, Mikey…should I be asking you why you did what you did? Or should I be making you promise to never do something like that again? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not mad at you for doing this- I just wanna know what broke you. I mean, you were broken before, but something must’ve happened to push you off the edge…”

Michael’s gaze darkens. “My mum. You know that business trip she went on?”

“The long-ass one? Yeah. She still not back or something?” His mum is one of the sweetest people ever, she always used to make me food to take home, whenever I went to their house. She made sure my and my siblings didn’t starve, she basically loved me like I was one of her own.

“It was never a business trip, Ash,” Michael mutters. “She left. For good. She’s gone and she’s never coming back. And I’m stuck with an abusive father for the next three years. That’s why I wanted to be gone. But looking back, I can’t leave Luke. I’ll deal with the beatings, if it means Luke and I get to be happy together.”

“Holy fucking shit, she just…left? With no word to you?” I ask in disbelief. 

“The last thing she said to me was that she loved me,” Michael whispers. “But I had no idea it’d be the last time I’d hear her say those words…”

“Mikey…”

Michael swallows hard, shaking his head. “It’s okay. There’s nothing I can do about it, I’m just gonna have to get used to it. Probably gonna be spending way too much time at Luke’s house. I’ll make it, Ash. I’ll be fine.”

“How can I be sure you won’t do something like this again?” My voice cracks, and Michael sighs.

“Promises mean shit, eh?” He jokes. “But all kidding aside, all I’ve got is my word. There’s nothing else…”

“If you do it, I do it.” I’m shocked as the words leave my mouth, and I can tell Michael is too.

“Ash, you can’t…”

I force a smile. “In the very wise words of Alex Gaskarth, we go together, or we don’t go down at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't know, Ashton's last sentence is lyrics from A Love Like War, by All Time Low and Vic Fuentes. It's an amazing song, highly recommend you listen to it, if you haven't already. Anyway, we're nearing the end. Three more chapters, and then an epilogue. Thanks for reading- hope you enjoyed.


	44. Chapter 43

It’s a week, before I’m finally released, and all four of us are able to go back home. 

Neither Ashton nor Calum left the hospital while Luke and I were there- and Doctor Simmons said it didn’t hurt for Luke to stay another week, he now has just a little over a month left, until the casts come off. He’ll be back to normal in no time- and we couldn’t be happier about it. 

As for me…I guess my conversation with Ashton is one of the only things holding me back from trying again. He said he’d follow me, if I killed myself- and I don’t doubt for a second that he would. After all, he’s been through a lot of shit- and even though there will be consequences, he’s probably suicidal as fuck. I don’t blame him- but knowing that my best friend wants to kill himself is quite painful…I just wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish no one has to go through pain, no one ever has to feel like they wanna die. It fucking sucks.

“Mikey, are you even listening?”

I shake my head, glancing at Ashton. “I zoned out, sorry. What’s the deal?”

“I said that Zayn, Harry, Louis, Niall, and Liam are coming over.” We’re at Ashton’s house- his siblings are at friends’ houses, so we’ve got the place to ourselves. “You and Luke have yet to meet Nialler and Li, Cal’s met them, but you guys haven’t. And they said that they wanna talk about some things, maybe give us some tips on the whole band thing.” 

I nod, pulling Luke closer to me. He winces, shifting a bit, before relaxing into me. “Sorry, baby,” I whisper. “I forgot that you’re hurting…”

“S’okay.” Luke smiles up at me, and I lean down to kiss his forehead.

“Damn, can you two be any more nauseating?” Calum groans, giving us a disgusted look.

I roll my eyes. “And you say that like you’re not practically buried in Ashton’s chest.”

Calum’s cheeks darken. “At least we’re not kissing every five seconds.”

“What can I say?” I shrug. “Muke is superior to Cashton.”

“Mate, I’m sorry to say this, but you’ve got it wrong,” Ashton cuts in. “Cashton will always be number one.”

“So Cashton is piss?” Luke says cheekily. 

“Wow, fuck you too,” Ashton grumbles. “You both are such dicks.”

Luke starts to say something, but he’s cut off by the front door creaking open.

“I’m here, the party can begin!” Louis calls loudly, stepping into the room. 

“There’s a party, and I didn’t know about it? Excuse you,” I joke, playing along. I press a quick kiss to Luke’s hair, before slipping out from under him, and going over to the five guys standing in front of us. 

Ashton joins me quickly, hugging Zayn. Louis pulls me into his arms, hugging me tightly. “You okay?” He asks gently, pulling away and holding me at arm’s length. “I heard about what happened, love…”

“I’m good, yeah,” I reply softly. “I’m sorry if I worried you…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Louis says firmly. “It’s not your fault. We were all just worried, that’s all- and we would’ve worried even if you hadn’t tried. The boys know how it works, Mike. Depression doesn’t just go away- it didn’t for me, after Harry came out of his coma, and you are no different. It’ll take some time, but you’ll be okay.”

I nod, and he hugs me again, before I turn around, facing the living room. Calum is sitting and talking to Niall, Ashton is sitting next to him and talking to Zayn, and Luke and Harry are engaged in a conversation. 

Liam is standing right next to Louis, opening his arms as soon as Louis pulls away from me. I’ve never met him, but that doesn’t seem to bother him. He pulls me into his arms and hugs me tightly, his grip strong and his hold firm. 

“I know we haven’t met properly yet, but we’re doing that now, and I just wanna say that I care about you and you’re so important,” Liam says gently. “And we were there for Lou, when he needed us, and now we’re gonna be here for you. So please, don’t hesitate to use us. We’ll give you our numbers, and whenever you feel bad, text one of us. We’re here for you, Michael.”

“Thank you…” I whisper, overwhelmed with how much he cares and how evident it is. “Thank you so much.”

…

“I guess we can’t break out the beer, now can we?” 

Louis chuckles from his place on Harry’s chest, glancing at us. “Are any of you even legal?”

“I’ll be eighteen in six months, does that count?” Ashton asks. “If not, you’re outta luck. These three aren’t even 16 yet.”

Niall whistles. “Damn. 16 feels so young, it was only five years ago. Six for Lou, he’s ancient.”

“Fuck off!” Louis whines in protest. “M’not that old!”

“You’re gonna be 23 in a couple of months,” Zayn points out. “You’re _old_.”

“And so are you, Mr. 22 in three months,” Louis shoots back. 

“Compared to us, you _all_ are old,” Luke says. “We’re not even 16, and you guys are over 20, that’s hella old.”

“Luke.” I look him in the eye. “Please never say ‘hella’ again.”

“You’re hella good looking,” Luke replies cheekily. I roll my eyes, thumping his head.

“Dumbass.”

“You’re _both_ dumbasses,” Calum calls, from his position against Ashton. He nuzzles his face into Ashton’s neck, and the older boy pulls him against his chest, kissing him.

“Whoa now, PDA!” Niall speaks up, glaring at them. “I’m the only one without a girlfriend!”

“None of us have girlfriends,” Zayn says. “I thought you would’ve known the difference between a male and a female by now.”

“You know what I meant! I’m the only one without a significant other!”

“Significant other? Oooooh, Harry, are you my significant other?” Louis looks up at Harry innocently, batting his eye lashes. 

Harry sighs in exasperation. “What the hell am I supposed to do with you?”

…

“Sometimes I wish depression didn’t exist…” I mutter, glancing up at the ceiling. “I wish no one ever feels like they want to die, because it fucking _sucks_.”

“That’s the thing about depression.” Louis sighs heavily. “It doesn’t claim its victims based on anything, it just strikes you, and you have to deal with it. And it happens to the best people…you four really don’t deserve it, and these guys have told me that I didn’t, but…”

“But there comes a time when you realize that you can’t let the depression control your life,” Harry says firmly, threading a hand through Louis’ hair. “And that’s when you start to think about ways to kick it in the ass, like Lou did. He still has his bad days, but he’s mostly happier- like, if he hadn’t told you guys, would you have guessed he was depressed a couple years ago?”

“Hell no.” Ashton joins the conversation easily. “I’ve known you guys for a couple years now, and Lou’s been happy as hell. Bright, cheery, outgoing, all that shit- I never expected him to be the one to have cut himself only three or four years ago.”

“I don’t know whether I’m as bad with the depression, as these three…” Luke mumbles. “M’anorexic, but not as depressed. Like, I was more obsessed with having a perfect body, and I might’ve been killing myself in the process, but that was never my intent…”

“I see what you mean,” Liam says thoughtfully. “And I know how you feel. Getting bullied is shit, and when it comes from people you’re close to, things hurt.”

“That’s why I was a total introvert in high school,” Zayn adds. “I didn’t talk to people, because I didn’t want to risk forming relationships and getting hurt. It was too risky, and I was too scared to do it. I had these guys, and they were enough for me. I’ve never been a loud person- Lou and I are the exact opposite- I’ve always been on the side, drawing and singing, and that was okay. I was fine with that.”

“We’re the rejects, Z,” Ashton mutters. “We’re completely outcasts, and we do try and stick to the sidelines, but it doesn’t really help. We’re still bullied, we’re still depressed…we’re still the ones who want to die, while everyone else is going on with their lives. Everyone is moving on and meeting people and doing things, while we’re just trying to get through one more day without breaking into pieces.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? This story is most likely gonna be done by Tuesday- at least I'm hoping so, because after that, I'm going up to see my cousins for Christmas, and I won't have time to write. Anyway, thanks for reading- hope you enjoyed.


	45. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for some fluffy Cashton, enjoy.

“I’m fully healed. Fucking finally.”

I grin, walking over to Ashton with little to no pain in my ankle. He catches me and pulls me into a hug, crushing me into his chest. “This took way too damn long to heal, stupid ass ankle.”

“Hey, just be happy it’s fully healed now, and you’ve regained complete mobility,” Ashton chides gently, kissing my face. “You can play footy again.”

“I wanted to show you my skills,” I say slyly, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Cal!” Ashton giggles, slapping me on the arm. “Do you really think seductiveness is gonna work on me?”

“I was talking about my football skills, though,” I protest.

“Yeah, sure you were.”

…

“I don’t wanna go to therapy.”

I rest my head on Ashton’s shoulder, squeezing my eyes shut. “I don’t wanna sit in a room with a lady who doesn’t give two flying fucks about my life, and tell her anything. I wanna stay here with you.”

“You sound like a child right now, in case you haven’t realized.”

“I don’t care,” I whine. “Therapy is so fucking shitty.”

“This is your first session, how would you know that without even going?” Ashton rolls his eyes at me, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m just…I’m scared, Ash. I don’t like talking to people, especially someone I don’t know. What if she judges me?” I voice my fears softly, turning my face to scoot down and bury it in his chest. 

A strong arm winds itself behind my back, pulling me in closer. Ashton kisses the top of my head gently, before forcing me backward, so he can hold me at arm’s length. “Baby, everything is going to be fine. She isn’t going to judge you- that’s defeating the purpose of her job. We made sure this lady is good, she’s going to help you, Cal. I just want you to be okay again- you don’t deserve to feel like shit anymore.”

“It’s just…”

“Please go? For me?” Ashton looks at me with puppy dog eyes, and I sigh, relenting. I can’t say no to him- he’s too convincing, and he really does know what’s best for me. He’s older, and he knows more. I’m really not opposed to listening to him.

“I’ll try it…”

“That’s all I’m asking, baby. I love you.” Ashton leans forward and connects our lips sweetly, and when we pull away, he draws me closer into him. I relax against him, nuzzling into his chest and enjoying the time we have before my appointment.

…

“So, Calum, what would you like to talk about today?” Doctor Parker looks at me with kind eyes and a warm smile, as I perch stiffly on the couch in her office. 

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to give me the third degree, analyze what I say, and then put me on a crapton of meds?” I mutter bitterly. 

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I’m here for, Calum. I’m not a psychiatrist. I’m here to listen- you can tell me absolutely anything, and I’m required- by law- to keep it confidential. I’m not looking to push you, we’ll start with whatever you’re comfortable with. What do you feel comfortable telling me?”

“Nothing.” I cross my arms and stare the ground. I’m not trying to be difficult, I’m just not really willing to open up to a stranger.

“That’s perfectly fine,” she says softly. “But how about we talk about your boyfriend, Ashton? Is that a good place to start?”

My face must’ve lit up, because she chuckles, smiling at me. “That was a good idea, wasn’t it? Tell me about Ashton, Calum. He makes you happy, talk about him.”

“I can say anything I want?” I confirm, looking at her cautiously.

“Anything.”

“Well, Ashton is…he’s everything to me. He makes me so happy, I can’t even describe the emotion. He’s my light on my darkest days, and my sun peeking in through the clouds. He makes me feel like everything is going to be okay. He hugs me a lot, and kisses my cheeks and forehead- he makes me feel so loved…and that’s really important. I didn’t really get much love when it came to my parents, I mean, my dad was a strict ass drill sergeant, and my mum usually went along with his decisions. So, it’s kinda nice to have Ashton, he’s absolutely adorable, and I love him more than anything.”

“That’s precious, Calum,” Doctor Parker replies. “It’s hard to find that kind of love, and I’m glad you’re one of the lucky ones. Ashton is definitely a keeper.”

“Yeah, he’s waiting outside right now, he actually convinced me to come. He’s really trying his best to do whatever he can for me, and I’m so grateful to him. I love him so much, and I’m so thankful to have him, for all he’s done- it’s just amazing.”

“What about your other friends- Michael and Luke, I think were their names? You four are a close-knit group, right?”

“Yeah,” I smile at the thought. “We’ve actually started a band together, the four of us. I really love spending time with them, we’ve all got something in common. We’re the social outcasts, the rejects, the loners at school- we’re all depressed, and it seems concerning, but we help each other a lot. Luke and Michael are dating, and me and Ashton are dating, and we’re all best friends, so it kinda works out.”

“That’s really sweet,” she tells me. “I had something like that when I was a teenager, and trust me, having a tight-knit group of friends like tha really helps. It’s nice to have people you can call at any time with a problem.”

“I love my friends,” I say. “I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

…

“So, how’d it go, baby?”

Ashton stands up and steps over to me, as Doctor Parker and I come out of her office. 

He pulls me into his arms and glances over my head, up at her. “How’d he do?”

Doctor Parker smiles at him. “It went wonderfully, I’m sure we’ll have a great next few sessions. We’re signed up for the same time next week, right Calum?”

I nod. “Yeah, thank you for this. It really did help.”

“I’m happy to help you guys, that’s why I got into all of this.” She opens the door to her office. “You have my number, if you need to talk before your appointment, text me.”

“I will,” I reply. She nods, and ducks back into her office with a small smile.

Ashton kisses me gently, before wrapping his arm around my waist and leading me out of the building. “So it went well? That’s good.”

“It went really well. We talked about you,” I tell him, grinning. 

“Oh? What’d you say about me?” 

“Just how amazing you are, and how much I love you.” I lean up to kiss his cheek, seeing the pinkish color starting to darken his skin. “Aw, you’re blushing.”

“That’s your fault!” Ashton cries. “Stop making me feel all warm and tingly inside!”

“Do you really want me to stop?” I ask slyly, arching an eyebrow.

“No, but you keep making me blush, and I’m tired of fielding questions from everyone! I’m blushing because my boyfriend is too damn adorable, okay?” 

It’s so cute to see him worked up like this, he gets like this over the smallest things, and I honestly love it. 

We both get into his car, and he pulls out of the parking lot, veering onto the road. He takes one hand off the steering wheel, and intertwines it with mine. “I’m so happy this went well for you- I was so worried that it wouldn’t turn out well.”

“Thank you, for all the research you did, all the time you spent, everything. I love you,” I reply, bringing his hand to my lips. “You’re amazing.”

Ashton clenches his hand around the steering wheel. “We’re going to your house, right?”

I nod. “Yeah, Mikey and Luke said they’d meet us there.”

“Luke’s coming back to school tomorrow, isn’t he?”

Another nod. “Yeah, I heard Mikey’s been trying to get his schedule changed, so he has more classes with him. Luke’s gonna be in a wheelchair, so…he needs people to carry his shit and stuff.”

“Aren’t you in any of his classes?”

“We’re trying to get it so either me or Mikey is in every one of his classes, to make it easier for him.”

“Good idea,” Ashton replies. “I don’t have anything with him, the only class I have with you guys is study hall, with Mikey. I guess seniors and sophomores are pretty split, aren’t they?”

“Unfortunately,” I sigh. “Having classes with you would be amazing.”

“We still have all afternoon, and all day on the weekends,” Ashton optimizes. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I whisper back, squeezing his hand. “More than you’ll ever know.”


	46. Chapter 45

“I want to go back to school.”

Michael tenses, his body stiffening. I push myself up further against him to keep from falling, turning my head to look him in the eye. “I want to go back tomorrow.”

Michael’s eyes cloud with worry. “Are you sure? We can arrange something, so you don’t have to go around in the bulky wheelchair, with all the casts…”

“No, Mikey,” I say gently. “I don’t want special treatment. We need to go back, if we want to keep the credits for the classes we’re taking this year. And I’ll be okay. I’m not fragile.”

Michael snorts. “You’re injured, in pain, and you have a head injury. You were in a coma, just about two weeks ago.”

“And I am awake, and fine,” I tell him. “I’m injured, yes, but there is nothing I can do about my arm and leg for right now. My head feels better, and pain meds will keep my rib pain under control. I’m not going to summer school because I stayed home, when I could’ve gone to school, Mikey. Please don’t subject me to that.”

Michael sighs. “M’just worried about you. I want you to be okay. I wanna hug you and kiss you and cuddle you.” For emphasis, he presses his lips against my cheek, cuddling me close.

“We can still do that, babe,” I say. “Sure, it’s school and we can’t have as much PDA, but we can always ditch study hall and go into the courtyard for that period. It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”

“What does your mum think?” He asks.

“She thinks it’s a good idea.” I brush a few strands of hair from his eyes. “But she said that she’d support me whether I wanted to go or not. It’s up to me. And I want to go, Mikey. I really do.”

“Even though there’s a chance you’ll get bullied and called mean shit, and made out to feel like crap?” Michael regards me cautiously. 

I nod. “I can’t run forever. At some point, I’m going to have to go back. It’s easier to just bite the bullet and get it over with. It’ll happen sometime.”

Michael sighs. “I like your logic, but I really don’t want you going. Are you sure I can’t talk you out of this?”

“No,” I reply, giggling a little. “You gotta accept that I’m not gonna hide forever, Mikey. I’m eventually going to need to be independent and go to school.”

“Independent?” Michael huffs. “Please. I’m gonna be there with you at all possible times. I don’t want some stranger carrying your books and pushing you around, I don’t trust anyone in that shithole of a building. I’m gonna try and get my schedule changed. And Cal will help you when I can’t.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” I relax my face into his neck, blowing out a puff of air. “I love you a lot, thank you.”

“I’m not your father, you don’t need my permission to do shit,” Michael mutters. “But thank you for instigating this conversation. I’d rather you talk to me, before you do something that could backfire.”

I sigh, hugging him as tight as I can- with the injuries. “You don’t need to worry about me that much, babe. I’m okay.”

…

“Are you sure about this?” 

Michael looks at me hesitantly, stopping my wheelchair in front of the school building. “Your mum is still waiting at the sidewalk, we can always go home and give it another week or two, maybe you can get more strength back or shit.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m going through with it. It’s gonna be okay, babe. Everything is going to work out. You’re worrying more than me, and I’m the one in the damn wheelchair, for fuck’s sakes.”

“Well, excuse me for being concerned about my boyfriend.” Michael pouts, leaning down to kiss me. 

“Hey, whoa, PDA alert!”

We pull away, just in time to see Ashton and Calum walking toward us. The alarming part, is that Calum is walking side by side with Ashton, holding hands with him. He’s putting full weight on his foot- there are no crutches in sight. 

“Is your foot healed, Cal?” Michael asks, looking him up and down. “You don’t look to be in any pain.”

“I’m good.” Calum grins at us. “Coach said I could come to practice today. He’s gonna start me off with light shit, but I get to play again. And Ash is coming with me, he’s gonna watch.” He squeezes Ashton’s hand, and I smile. He’s practically glowing. He looks so happy to have Ashton come watch him play- I couldn’t be more ecstatic for those two.

“Awesome, guys,” Michael replies. He turns his gaze back to the school, smile fading. “We should get in there, shouldn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Ashton mutters. “Back to hell.”

Calum sighs, kissing Ashton’s cheek. “Don’t think like that. Today isn’t gonna be that bad. Let’s just think about it being a good day, and maybe it will be.”

“So, should I think about my stitches not being there, and maybe they’ll magically heal?” Michael grumbles in reply. 

…

School is definitely different. 

I’m getting stared at from every angle- not many know what happened, so there have definitely been rumors flying. I’ve gotten shit about being in a motorbike accident, jumping off a building, being beat up- none of which are true. It’s kinda funny, to see how crazy these rumors really are. 

Michael parks my wheelchair in the courtyard, coming around to the front. He lifts me into his arms, and carries me over to the tree, sitting down against in. I shift around in his lap, relaxing into him.

“So, was Cal right?” I ask softly. “Today wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“It wasn’t,” Michael admits begrudgingly. “But this doesn’t make me suddenly love school or shit. I still wanna burn this place to the ground and laugh while I do it.”

“I think that’s something all four of us wanna do,” I reply. “But think about it, we’re halfway there. Only two more years, and then we’re out of this shithole forever.”

“Ash is so lucky,” Michael sighs. “He’s only got a few months left.”

“He’s already been through all of this, though,” I remind him. “It’s not like he only had two years, while we have four.”

“Yeah, but…” Michael trails off, tightening his grip around my waist. “I wish that I could just exist, on a world with you, Ash, and Cal. That’s it. No assholes, no people to ruin our lives, no one else. Just us four. Living our dreams and making it big. I wish we could do something like that.”

“Who says it’s just a dream, Mikey?” I ask softly. “Dreams can come true, you just gotta have a little faith.”

“You pulled that from your ass, didn’t you?” Michael replies pessimistically.

I smile. “Actually, Cal was the one who told me. This was when I was thinking about starting a band, before I talked to you about it. My dream is to be like Alex Gaskarth and Vic Fuentes and Oli Sykes. I wanna save lives with music. And sure, it seems far-fetched and crazy, but it could happen.”

“You wanna do what they’ve done, because you want other people to have the experience we got, the saving we got, from them?” Michael asks.

“Well, it sounds kinda confusing when you put it that way, but yeah. It’d be nice to say, ‘I saved someone’s life’, or ‘I helped someone stop cutting’.” 

“You’ve done one of those, though,” Michael murmurs. “You’ve helped me stop cutting. I haven’t done it since my…suicide attempt…you’ve been the only reason for me not to.”

Warmth fills me, at his words. “That’s…that’s amazing, thank you, Mikey.”

“Why are you thanking me?” Michael looks confused. 

I smile, shaking my head. “I didn’t save your life. I helped you save your own. And the same thing goes for cutting. I helped you force yourself to stop. It’s not easy, and it’s probably painful- but you did it. And sure, I was a part of you doing it, but _you_ did it. You could’ve ignored me, picked up that blade, and sliced until you felt better. But you _didn’t._ And Michael, I am so fucking proud of you for doing that. I love you more than you will ever know. You’re so strong, so brave, and so beautiful. And you may not believe it now, but that’s okay. Because I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you. One day, you will believe it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is technically the last chapter. There's gonna be an epilogue, and it'll be up tomorrow. I'll do the really long author's note there, too. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I'd love to know what you thought.


	47. Epilogue

_Two years later_

A lot can change in two years. 

The biggest change was that Zayn, Louis, Liam, Harry, and Niall were signed to a record label as a boyband. It came as a shock to all of us- we had no idea they were even thinking about doing something like that. But it seems like many love their voices- they sell out arenas and stadiums all the time- their fanbase is massive, and absolutely crazy. 

They called themselves One Direction- Louis made a joke that they’re only going in one direction, upward, because they’re that amazing. He was just joking, but it’s seeming to come true- they’re popular as fuck, and their rise to fame has been absolutely remarkable. 

As for the boys and I, they’re all finishing up their senior year, and Louis and Zayn handed the coffee shop over to me, so I run it now. It makes good money- owning a business is definitely profitable. We’re still making covers as a band, but nothing too big yet.

Oh yeah, and Luke is fully healed. He’s still just as attached to Michael as he was when he was injured- those two are practically joined at the hip. They don’t ever like leaving each other, and they’re cuddling more than anything, anymore. They’re really happy, and that’s all that matters- seeing the light in their eyes makes my day.

As for me and Calum, we’re the best we can be. He works at the shop now, so we get to spend more time together. And he’s become Harry’s biggest fan- they share a great love of football. It’s really sweet, to see my boyfriend and my baby brother go outside at the most random times of the day, just to kick a football around. Calum is so good with him, and it’s amazing. He’s not only amazing with Harry, Lauren absolutely loves him. He listens to her when she needs to talk to someone who isn’t me- and he’s there for her whenever she needs it. 

Calum’s been doing much better- the therapy has really helped. And in turn, he’s managed to help me. I don’t cut anymore, and I’m slowly kicking depression’s ass- I’m working on becoming happier, and it’s definitely working. I got emancipated- I’m the legal guardian of Lauren and Harry, until they’re eighteen. My mum’s in rehab, and the whole home life situation is kinda starting to look up.

Calum’s mum and dad did divorce, and his mum has been extremely accepting of his homosexuality and his dyslexia. He still struggles in school, but I help him out, and he manages. He’s doing well- I’ve never seen him this happy. 

Michael’s living with Luke’s family- his dad was finally arrested, and Luke’s mum decided to adopt him- it was the least she could do for Luke, that was basically a thank you from his entire family, for putting up with their shit for so long. So, Michael is doing much better- a familial environment really helped him. He’s not cutting anymore, and he’s eating- and keeping it down- Luke’s mum has helped them both kick their eating disorders.

Speaking of Luke, he’s doing awesome. He looks much healthier now- not fat in the slightest, but very healthy. He’s captain of the football team, and one of their best players. Having Michael around 24/7 has helped a lot- with the urges, the temptation, everything. They help each other, and it’s really nice to see.

All in all- when I said that it wasn’t possible for things to get better, I don’t think I had realized what can happen, if you give it some time and wait things out. Everything will be okay, in the end.

…

“It’s been fucking forever since we’ve seen you guys, damn,” Louis comments, as the five of them file into my apartment. “And Ashy bear has his own apartment? Fancy.”

“Don’t call me that!” I hiss, glaring at him.

“Love you.” Louis smirks. “ _Ashy bear_.”

“Fuck off,” I mutter, punching his arm. Louis grins, pulling me in for a hug. I hug him back tightly, squeezing his waist. As much as we tease each other, I’ve really missed him. I’ve missed all the guys, to be honest. 

“We’ve missed you guys.” Michael voices my thoughts, as he pulls away from Liam. 

“And we’ve missed you,” Harry tells us. “Touring is amazing, but it’s kinda nice to be back home, for once. I don’t remember the last time we were here.”

“It’s been over six months, definitely,” Zayn says, plopping down on the couch. He pats the spot next to him, and I sit down, curling into his side. Calum sits next to me, and Liam curls next to Zayn. Michael and Luke are sitting next to Harry and Louis, and Niall is sitting between the two groups of four, looking disgruntled. 

“I need to get a girlfriend,” he grumbles. “This is starting to get old.”

“Aw but, you’ll break thousands of hearts if you do,” Luke points out.

Niall rolls his eyes. “Then do you wanna cuddle with me and make me feel less lonely?”

“Leave me, and you don’t wanna know what happens,” Michael mock threatens, tightening his arm around Luke. “He’s mine, get your own Ni.”

“I’ll never find a girl!” Niall whines dramatically. “I’ll be forever alone, in a house with ten billion cats!”

“Stop being dramatic, that’s Lou’s thing,” Harry chides. “But we do have something important to ask you guys, that’s kinda why we came.”

“So you didn’t come just to see us?” I feign hurt. “I am offended!”

“We love you guys, shut up.” Harry shakes his head at me. “But we have something that might make you love us more.”

“And that something is?” Calum raises an eyebrow.

“We’re going on a stadium tour next year,” Zayn says. “And we need an opening act. We’ve seen your guys’ covers on YouTube, they’re amazing. We wanna know, if you’d like to open for us on this tour.”

…

“We’re opening for One Direction. On a fucking stadium tour.”

I glance out the window, not really directing the words to anyone. “What the fuck just happened?”

“We’re making it big,” Calum replies, wrapping his arm around my waist. “We’re finally getting the happy ending we wanted.”

“Oi, stop with that cheesy bullshit,” Michael grumbles. “It’s too cliché.”

“Shut up Mikey, we just got fucking signed, asked to open for the biggest boyband in the world, and told we’re dropping out of school for this,” Luke sums up. “I think he’s allowed to be as goddamn cliché as he wants.”

“Your dream is coming true, Lukey,” Calum murmurs. “Every last bit of it.”

Luke smiles. “It’s not just my dream anymore, is it? It’s our dream. And sure, last year fucking sucked. Whenever someone told me to wait it out- that things would get better- I wanted to slap them, because I thought that was just a bunch of fucking bullshit. But now I see what they meant. This is our big moment. This is our dream.”

He pulls Michael closer to him, forming a four-person circle. Looking all of us in the eye, Luke grins. “Let’s make it happen. 5 Seconds of Summer. It’s our dream, and it’s coming true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys, this is it. Thank you so much for all the support this story's received- it's truly amazing, and I can't thank you all enough. I started this story as a NaNoWriMo project, and it's blossomed into something amazing. I've always wanted to write a story based off Rejects- and though most of this is very inaccurate- I do think that the boys did feel like definite Rejects in high school. That's something a lot of people can connect with, being outcasts. 
> 
> 2015 is gonna bring some big things from me. I want to start an AU high school fic, and I have some others in mind. Who knows, there might even be a sequel to this. I'm gonna hope to finish That Was Then, This Is Now, before the year ends. There's not really much I can do with that storyline, besides what I already have. So, that'll be my focus, from here on out. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys all have a wonderful holidays, whatever holiday you celebrate. Thank you for reading- and I really hope you've loved reading this as much as I've loved writing it.


End file.
